


The Reluctant Hero

by dbluewillow



Series: Red Tape [1]
Category: Splatoon, Splatoon 2
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Origin Story, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Mystery, Other, POV Third Person, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-04-03 22:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 40,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14006490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dbluewillow/pseuds/dbluewillow
Summary: A young man heads to the city to locate his missing friend, but he finds much more than he bargained for. And just like that, Agent 4 stumbles into a world of security threats, covert ops, and conflicting responsibilities.COMPLETE. This is my first completed story!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **PREFACE**
> 
> Hi there! My name is dbluewillow, and you're reading my first complete work of fiction. I started this project right before my final semester of studies as a university undergraduate and completed it five months and thirty-six thousand words later. The Reluctant Hero is a re-imagining of the Splatoon 2 single-player “Octo Canyon” mode, and its primary purpose is to answer the question, “Why did Agent 4 come to Inkopolis?” My motivations for writing this story stem from both my love for the game and my disappointment with its story.
> 
> The original Splatoon's “Hero Mode” is a compelling but relatively small portion of the whole game. The star of that show is the player character, the so-called Agent 3, a new kid on the block who wanders down the wrong alley and accidentally becomes a secret agent. The story takes place behind the scenes, but it does a nice job of touching on modern, real-world themes like discrimination, power, and sustainability. I especially enjoyed how Splatoon hinted at a much larger setting, a sprawling, mysterious world chock-full of secrets.
> 
> Then Splatoon 2 comes along with its own single-player mode, which is retreads familiar ground. This time, however, the generic, self-insert story is restricting and disappointing. We, the players, learn nothing new about Splatoon's fascinating world. The conflict is boring, the characters are weak, and the potential for further exploration is squandered. I also came away with many questions. What are Agent 3 and Cap'n Cuttlefish doing on a trip? How is Octo Valley doing without a leader? And why did Agent 4 come to Inkopolis in the first place?
> 
> While I understand that the single-player mode is not the focus of the game, I still felt unsatisfied after completing my initial playthrough. I wanted answers. So, I set about writing my own story, one that would answer my questions and give our hero a reason to come to the city. I wanted a serious story, a conflict with higher stakes, characters with purpose. I wanted something that I myself would have found engaging and interesting, and I hope to make The Reluctant Hero into exactly that.
> 
> Thank you for choosing to read The Reluctant Hero, and without further ado, please enjoy.

 

“Many travelers find themselves in Inkopolis at some point in their journey. Youth from far-flung seas gather in this colorful hub of comings, goings, meetings, and farewells.”  
—Sunken Scrolls 2:7 (2.4)

 

 **Friday, 7:52 p.m.  
** **Inkopolis**

 

Cole checked his phone again to make sure he was walking in the right direction. Everything seemed to be in order: Teuthida General Hospital, seven blocks to the west, ten minutes until arrival. There were so many hospitals in this city, and all within walking distance too. Inkopolis was a completely different world from his quiet hometown of Razorback Falls, where going anywhere practically required a vehicle. The city was so bustling and animated, with things going on everywhere he looked. A glowing storefront sign advertised a big sale. A food truck on the other side of the street attracted a long line of customers. Crowds of people came and went as Cole did his best to weave his way through them. It was a bit distracting. He had never been around so many strangers at once.

This was the fourth hospital that he was visiting today, and he had gotten nowhere so far. It was already late in the evening—the sun was starting to set, and the clear sky's bright orange hues gradually turned dark blue. He checked his phone one last time to make sure that he wasn't going the wrong way. Cole trusted his sense of direction well enough, but he still didn't want to risk getting lost.

Back home, he actually liked taking walks. They were not this noisy or stressful. They were peaceful and contemplative. Going on a walk gave him a chance to think about things. Right now, he was thinking about how Natalie had not called her family in almost a month and how his messages to her hadn't gone through. Her poor parents were sick with worry. They had filed a missing person report, but their unfamiliarity with and general distrust of government services meant that sending Cole to conduct his own search was more reassuring to them. And so, here he was in the city, feeling rather out of place.

His first stop was Natalie's apartment. She lived downtown, near the famous Plaza and right by the train station. That made his job of physically getting to her address nice and quick, but no one was home. Her neighbors were incredibly unhelpful, too, giving him noncommittal, ambiguous responses to whether they had seen her recently. It was as if the residents on Nat's floor didn't even know who she was. That was odd, because the Nat that he knew from two years ago was friendly and talkative, if maybe a bit stubborn. Perhaps the people of Inkopolis simply didn't talk to their neighbors.

Next, Cole began asking for a Natalie Tilus at every hospital in the area. He expected to find her as a current patient somewhere, with maybe a head injury or a broken leg. If she got injured, then the city hospitals should have some sort of record of her stay. But he kept finding nothing. There was no Natalie Tilus anywhere, and all these empty leads were starting to try his patience.

He should have gotten involved earlier, when her mother had started complaining. Natalie had stopped answering the phone. Cole had barely noticed her silence himself, or that his last message had failed to reach her at all. It was a one-word “cool” in response to her two-day-old video link. Even after later seeing the send error, he brushed it off as nothing. He wanted to kick himself for that.

He sent her text updates on this little quest, hoping for a reply like “What are you doing I'm just at home” to suddenly appear from her. He'd tell her how concerned everyone was. He'd berate her for making them worried. Then he'd go home, and everything would go back to normal. But Natalie remained silent, and Cole's messages kept returning errors. Failed to send. Failed to send. Failed to send. Her phone was off the grid. Nat had been silent for at least a month. She could have gone anywhere in that time. What if something had happened to her?

He stared at his phone for a while longer before heading out the door and back into the night. Teuthida General also had no patients by the name of Natalie Tilus. If the hospitals had nothing, then he would check with the city jail tomorrow. Maybe she got into trouble with the law, somehow. As unlikely as that seemed, anything could have happened to Nat at this point.

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**


	2. Chapter 2

 “Since time immemorial, a rare type of electric catfish known as the Zapfish has been prized by Inkling society as a source of energy. In fact, the entire city of Inkopolis is powered by a single one-hundred-year-old Great Zapfish!”  
—Sunken Scrolls 1:1 (1.1)

 

 **Saturday, 9:06 a.m.  
** **Inkopolis City Jail**

 

The city jail looked a lot like the hospitals, much to Cole's surprise. In his head, jails were a shady sort of place. He expected something much darker and dungeon-like, with security guards, long hallways, and iron doors. Instead, he got a carpeted waiting area full of couches. A television mounted on the wall silently reported the news: Has the Great Zapfish disappeared again? One visitor was reading the smaller headlines scrolling across the bottom of the television, and another visitor was whispering to her kid. Many others simply sat in waiting or looked at their phones. The jail was so normal it very well could have been a hospital lobby.

The elderly sculpin at the front desk looked agreeable enough. This was no big deal, Cole thought as he took a deep breath. He approached the front desk, unsure of what to say. He had never been in a jail before. Cole hated talking to strangers, and he wanted to get this done as quickly as possible.

“Um, hello?” he tried.

“Good morning,” the sculpin said, looking up from her computer. Her voice was squeaky, yet low in pitch. It might have been him instead of her, but Cole couldn't quite tell. “Who are you here to see?”

“A friend of mine has been missin' a few weeks,” Cole stammered out with a slight drawl. “And I was wonderin' if you could help me with that.” The receptionist blinked at him, maintaining eye contact for a little bit longer than Cole was comfortable with. He was about to turn his head away when she spoke up.

“I'm sorry, young man, but we only take scheduled visitors here. If you want to see someone, you should call us a few days in advance, tell us—”

“No, like, can't you just check if her name is in here?” Cole interrupted, raising his voice. “I don't really know if my friend is actually _in_ jail. I been searching for her all over Inkopolis.”

The sculpin at the front desk gave him another look before speaking. “You might be in the wrong place, young man. I would suggest you notify the police and—”

“I did. I done that already,” Cole replied, interrupting her again. He tried a more direct approach. “Okay, I'm here to see Natalie Tilus. It's spelled T-I-L-U-S. Does she have any visitors scheduled for today?”

“Inmate register number, and your name, please,” the receptionist said without skipping a beat.

“How should I know?” Cole demanded, a touch too loudly. By now, most of the visitors in the room were staring at him. He suddenly felt very out of place here as an angry, six foot one man from the boonies, a big guy who had stepped into a public building meant to accommodate much smaller people. He was an outsider, a troublemaker disturbing the peace. He did not belong in here, or anywhere in the city, for that matter.

He silently cursed himself for losing his cool so quickly and took another deep breath to calm himself. “Sorry,” he whispered. “My name is Cole. Cole Leoidea. I don't know Natalie's register number.”

That seemed to be enough, thankfully. The receptionist turned back to her computer and typed something in before looking up at him again.

“All right, kid. We have nobody with that name in our system.”

That was a relief, but where was she, then? Cole thanked the front desk and walked out with as much dignity as he could muster. A few of the visitors were still giving him funny looks.

Cole was running out of options. Previous contact with Natalie was now over a month old and suggested nothing out of the ordinary. He had no idea where she could have gone. He could hire a private investigator to help him, but that was expensive. The missing person report should have the police conducting a search, but to Cole's knowledge, they hadn't done anything yet. Well, the report did list Natalie's parents as the contacts—maybe they had some updates.

Cole pulled his phone out of his pocket and prepared to call Natalie's parents when he realized that he was being followed.

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**


	3. Chapter 3

 “With creatures of the surface driven to extinction by rising sea levels, the ancestors of Inklings were free to haul their ten-legged bodies up onto the abandoned land. This is how the Mollusc Era began.”  
—Sunken Scrolls 1:10 (3.1)

 

 **Saturday, 9:28 a.m.  
** **Inkopolis Square**

 

Cole hurriedly pushed himself through yet another crowd of people, trying to catch his breath. Panic continued to well up in his chest. Someone was stalking him.

This woman was being pretty conspicuous about it, too, he thought. She looked distinct, subdued but colorful, with a big pink hairpin and ornately patterned clothing. Cole had seen her yesterday when he walked into the lobby of Teuthida General Hospital. He took note of her neat, unusual appearance but thought nothing of it then. And today, that same woman was waiting for him as he left the Inkopolis City Jail, with the same hair in a bun, same black kimono, and same lacquered sandals. She followed him at a distance too far for him to confront but too close for him to ignore, hiding her face with a green paper parasol. Her presence couldn't have been just a coincidence.

The woman trailed him as he walked around Inkopolis Square. Several times, Cole tried to lose her, taking detours and walking through crowds, but she didn't give up. Every time he looked back, he could see her.

Well, if none of that worked, then he would try waiting her out at a public place. He shouldered his way into a nearby cafe and lined up to order a drink. No way she'd follow him in here, with all these other folks around. Something cold to drink could help him calm down a bit, too.

She didn't look like a thief, Cole thought to himself. Her clothing was too eye-catching. That just made the situation scarier, because she was confident enough to follow him around despite that and her obvious size disadvantage. Was she armed? What could she possibly want?

“May I take your order, sir?” a young Inkling girl at the register said, snapping him back to the present. He ordered himself a beverage that he'd never heard of and sat down to collect his thoughts. He wondered if Natalie drank this kind of stuff on a daily basis. Or maybe cafe drinks were just for social purposes? It was rather expensive, and everyone else in the cafe was in some sort of group. There was no way Nat could ever afford to have every meal at this place. Then again, she was a professional athlete. Nat probably made plenty of money.

And just when Cole was getting comfortable, his stalker walked in. She closed her green parasol and headed directly for his table.

He froze. Did nobody else notice her? He looked away from her and pretended to be very interested in his cup of whatever drink this was. She sat down across from him.

“Finally decided to stop running, big guy?” she asked. “I just want to talk.”

He ignored her and picked at the label on his cup.

“Listen, I didn't mean to scare you. I just want to know why you're looking for Natalie Tilus.” the woman continued. “Maybe we can help each other.”

That got Cole's attention. He wordlessly motioned for her to continue.

“First, I'd prefer to take this somewhere more private,” the woman in black said rather quietly, looking around the cafe. “Natalie and I are old friends. We used to work together as partners. We can find her if you agree to help me.”

Cole narrowed his eyes at the stranger. “W-who are you, ma'am?” Maybe this was some kind of joke. A humorless practical joke.

She got up and beckoned to him to follow. “I'll tell you on the way,” she replied.

“I ain't going anywhere. I have no idea who you are,” Cole said firmly.

The woman sat back down, betraying no signs of emotion. She did, however, look directly at Cole's face for several seconds. He really hated it when people did that. It creeped him out.

She broke the staring contest first. “I can't tell you who I am. Not here. But I can propose a trade: I'll tell you what Natalie Tilus was doing last, and you tell me who you are and how you know Natalie.”

“...Did you _kidnap_ Nat?”

“What? No! I mean, I'm looking for her,” the woman answered. “And if all you've been doing is going to the city authorities and asking around, then I probably know more than you do. You're not going to find her that way.”

Cole was indeed stuck, and he wasn't going to lose anything by taking her deal. “I'll bite. You first.”

“Four weeks ago,” she started, “Natalie Tilus went on a research trip with her commanding officer, out to the Eastern Cape. They never came back.”

Commanding officer?

“Wait, what?” Cole blurted out.

The woman talked right over him. “There was foul play involved. As far as I know, Natalie Tilus is still alive and being held in captivity, but I can't say where, exactly.”

“Hang on,” Cole interrupted. “Nat Tilus is a sixteen-year-old girl.”

Foul play? Held in captivity?

“She's a Turf War player,” he continued. “You know, the paintball thing. We talkin' about the same person, here?”

“Yes,” the woman responded. “I've told you what I know. Now it's your turn.”

Cole was at a loss for words. What was she even saying? This sounded so ridiculous. This sounded dangerous.

“What was Nat doing, exactly?” he ventured.

The woman gave him a blank look before answering. “I just told you. Your turn.”

Cole opened his mouth in protest, but he held back. He wasn't one to go back on his word. “I'm, uh… my name is Cole.” he mustered. “Me and Nat was childhood friends. Grew up together in the Falls. Neighbors. She moved out and came to the city to do the Turf War thing. Like, as a professional athlete.”

The woman in black was all ears. Cole took a breath before continuing. “That was about two years ago. We kept in touch, but she stopped answering her messages recently. Nobody I know has been able to get in contact with her a couple a weeks.”

“So you came to Inkopolis to look for Natalie?”

“Yeah. Her parents filed a report, but they said that maybe I could also check for them in person. I been everywhere, and, well...”

“How old are you, Cole?”

“Eighteen.”

A brief silence followed, and Cole went back to picking at the label on his cup. The woman finally averted her gaze and began looking into her hands. Cole took note of her yellow, star-shaped eyes and grey hair. She looked several years older than him, he guessed. Maybe only a few; he was never good at guessing ages. Part of him believed that the woman across the table was lying, somehow, but she looked fairly relaxed. She gave off an easy-going, trustworthy vibe, which Cole could not reconcile with the fact that she had brazenly stalked someone a head taller and a great deal heavier than herself. She was better than nothing, at least.

“Look,” the woman pleaded, looking back up. “I really need your help. Can we sort this out somewhere else, Cole?”

He tried his best to return her piercing gaze, but they both knew who was more intimidated.

She continued. “Natalie's life is on the line here. You'll be helping both of us.”

Cole sighed. “You're the only lead I got. Where are we going?”

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**


	4. Chapter 4

“The [Octarian] Department of Energy has announced that further declines in the availability of electric power are likely to occur in the near future... ...the future does not look bright.”  
—Sunken Scrolls 1:6 (2.1)

 

 **Saturday, 12:14 p.m.  
** **Inkopolis outskirts**

 

“We're almost there.”

The woman had taken Cole far, far away from the city, through several tunnels, dark alleys, and back roads. As they walked, the scenery gradually shifted away from the busy roads and cityscapes of the greater Inkopolis area to flatter, tree-lined horizons. Neon-colored skyscrapers gave way to subdued browns and yellows, and the cacophony of noises—moaning buses, chattering pedestrians, and incessant music above it all—quieted down to occasional birdsong. When he had first stepped foot in Inkopolis, Cole had to tune out the overwhelming stimuli that assaulted him. But after being immersed in them for a couple of days, he found their absence rather noticeable. His footsteps seemed louder now that they had no other distractions to compete with.

“So, uh,” started Cole. “Lemme get this straight. Your name is Marie, and you're both a pop star celebrity and a secret agent?”

“Have you seriously never heard of me before? For real?” Marie asked for the second time, without slowing her pace. That woman sure could walk. Cole was surprised that she could go on for so long in sandals—they'd been traveling on foot for at least a couple of hours. He was no stranger to long periods of physical activity himself, but urban pop culture was beyond his ken.

“Never,” Cole answered. Well, not a total lie. He had heard of the Squid Sisters before, but other than the songs and music videos that Natalie had sent him in their messages, Cole didn't know anything about them.

“It's hard to believe that somebody doesn't know who the Squid Sisters are,” Marie said with a laugh. “We really have gone out of style. But yes, I am also an investigator and field operative for the New Squidbeak Splatoon, or NSS for short. We're an organization that monitors potential security threats and intervenes whenever necessary.”

“...Where do I come in?”

“I'm getting there,” Marie said. “Do you remember when the Great Zapfish disappeared? Around two years ago?”

“Yeah.”

That was something Cole did hear about. The Great Zapfish of Inkopolis was a gigantic, flying creature that powered the entire city with electricity. It was known to wander away from its usual haunts around Inkopolis, flying away for days at a time to feed or do whatever else it wanted to. One time, however, it left for almost four months. It had seemingly disappeared without a trace with many of its children, sending authorities and businesses into a panic. The city's long-term energy demands could not be met without the Great Zapfish. Talks about shutting down public transportation, canceling the Splatfest, and rationing power were underway when the Great Zapfish finally came back, with every little baby Zapfish also accounted for.

That was around the time Nat had moved to Inkopolis, actually.

“It didn't just disappear on its own, you know. It was stolen by Octarians. And the NSS brought it back.”

“Really, now?”

“Our friend Natalie helped discover the perpetrators,” Marie said, narrowing her eyes. “She also spearheaded the operation to apprehend the Octarians and safely recover the Zapfish. She's an excellent shot, too, if I might add. Almost as good as me.”

“This is getting ridiculous…” Cole trailed off for a moment, trying to rationalize Marie's claims. This lady was serious, apparently. “Natalie is just a kid. She ain't no secret agent. If she saved the Zapfish, then why don't I know about this? Wouldn't this kind of thing go on the news?”

“We _are_ a secret society,” Marie replied. “Revealing ourselves to the public would compromise our ability to do anything. Besides, how do you think civilians would have reacted if they learned that Octarian terrorists were making moves against Inkopolis? They would have lost it! Imagine the panic that would have caused! People can barely keep it together when their bus runs late.”

“Hm.”

They entered a tunnel that ran deep into a cliff. The inside was well lit and wide enough for two cars to pass each other, but almost no traffic came through the area. In fact, the route seemed to have never been used at all.

“And the Octarians aren't done yet, either. I've gotten reports of suspicious activity at the borders of Octo Canyon. I wouldn't be surprised if they were mobilizing soldiers and weapons again,” Marie huffed, adjusting her grip on her parasol. “That happens to be where Natalie and the captain went to investigate.”

She stopped, turning to face Cole. “Natalie is Agent 3, the best we've got in the NSS. She and our captain have been captured, maybe worse. The Great Zapfish is also missing again; it's been away for almost a month.”

“Yeah, heard of something like that.”

“Furthermore, the responsible parties from last time have conveniently escaped prison sometime between then and now,” Marie continued, furrowing her brow. “See how stacked the odds are? I am the last active agent, and I can't do this all by myself.”

“This is a lot to take in,” replied Cole, avoiding her gaze. He wanted time to put the story together in his head. On the surface, no part of it seemed false or otherwise contradictory, but the thought of Natalie working for this secret society was humorous at best. If she really was the unsung hero that Marie made her out to be, then Natalie had been putting her life in danger for years. And she did it all without telling anyone back home to boot. Natalie had lied to her friends and family about being a Turf War player for quite some time, and Cole didn't buy it. Or at least he didn't want to.

“And I ain't totally convinced yet.”

“Well, it's a good thing we're here, then. Maybe this will do the trick.”

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**


	5. Chapter 5

“Music heads are still buzzing over that legendary underground show two years ago. Anyone lucky enough to catch DJ Octavio's opening set and the Squid Sisters headlining had their minds blown and their lives changed that night.”  
—Sunken Scrolls 2:2 (1.2)

 

 **Saturday, 12:30 p.m.  
** **Cuttlefish Cabin**

 

They stopped at the foot of a mountain, on the other end of the tunnel. Next to them was a small shack. It was a strange-looking hovel, shoddily constructed, yet heavily decorated. The thin, wooden walls held up an uneven roof of misaligned planks, all painted the same shade of salmon pink. A rusty satellite dish poked out from the top, partially covered in rubble that had fallen down from the surrounding mountainside. Some unlit paper lanterns hung from the awning. They were a recent addition; they looked new and clean, while the rest of the shack was worn out and covered with a visible layer of grime. The walls themselves were adorned with a geometric window pattern despite being completely solid and windowless. A bench built into the front wall was covered by a bright green tarp, under which sat some newspapers and empty snack wrappers.

Marie seemed to tug on one of the lanterns—Cole didn't quite catch exactly what she did—to reveal a black panel in a side wall. She placed her hand on the panel, and it visibly reacted with several red flashes.

For several seconds, nothing happened. Then, the wall of the shack folded into itself, revealing concrete stairs leading downward.

“Come on,” Marie said, waving him inside.

Against his better judgment, Cole followed her in. They were quite a ways from Inkopolis by now. He had already come this far—what was the worst that could happen? If this Marie had really wanted to do something to him, she could have done so at any time, instead of bothering to keep up a story. It was a fairly consistent story, too. He didn't like the snooty way she talked to him, but Marie had been very open with her answers. And besides, he was curious about this little cabin in the middle of nowhere.

On the inside, Marie hit a few buttons, closing the wall behind them. The stairs went down to a heavy-looking steel door. Marie punched a code into a keypad, and whirring electric motors unlocked the door with a click. She turned the handle and led Cole into a rectangular room with concrete walls. It smelled slightly musky. A large metal desk with a desktop computer was pushed into the corner, covered with papers. Several monitors mounted on the wall above the desk sat inactive, except for one that displayed a camera feed of the outside. On the other side of the room were a torn-up couch, a refrigerator, a closed door, and a round table with several chairs. Straight ahead was an open doorway to another room full of equipment.

Marie walked over to the cluttered desk, selecting a few items and laying them out on the round table. Cole peered at the papers cautiously, reading their titles. They had none. Rather, they appeared to be various reports. The abstract of the first one mentioned an “Agent 3” and something about surveillance and Octarians. He picked up the other three, flipping through an expenses report detailing the costs of a seabound operation, a folder full of Zapfish photos and machinery diagrams, and something that looked like the transcript of an interview.

On closer inspection, it wasn't an interview, but an interrogation. A set of interrogators labeled one to three prodded some “D” with questions about the Octarians' uses for the Zapfish, their operations in various locations, and their motivations. Cole had never had the patience to read lengthy texts, so he put it down immediately. He also didn't care to find out what the interrogators did to D.

While Cole skimmed through the other folders, Marie moved into the equipment room, coming back with a small black suitcase. She popped it open on the table. Inside was a headset, flashlight, binoculars, camera, and an ID card with Natalie's picture and a fake name. Marie then lifted the bottom of the suitcase out, revealing lockpicks, a pocket knife, and a gun.

Cole would have recognized a gun like that anywhere.

“Agent 3's stuff,” exclaimed Marie. “The ID is a fake, obviously, and her gun…”

Marie carefully picked the gun up with both hands, examining it slowly. It was a black compact machine pistol painted with neon yellow highlights. A wide, cylindrical suppressor extended the short, rectangular barrel by twice its original length, and a flashlight was screwed in below. A telescope sight sat on top of it all, adorned with blue LED lights. Under the handle was a tiny ammo drum.

“Agent 3 preferred this sort of thing to the heavier stuff, said she learned how to shoot with this exact model as a kid,” Marie finished.

Natalie had always preferred her handguns. Cole remembered teasing her about it while they were growing up. She used to spend all her allowance money on pistol mods. In fact, he was pretty sure that he had never seen her shoot anything but a handgun back in the Falls. Her personal favorite was a gun that looked very much like the one in Marie's hands—a noisy, box-shaped piece of hardware made even more unwieldy with several attachments. She always brought it whenever they went to the shooting range, even if they were planning to rent guns. Nobody else was particular enough to want a gun like that.

“Yeah, that's Nat's all right,” said Cole.

Marie nodded. “So you believe me now?” she asked.

Cole was mostly convinced, but he was struggling to come to terms with these new revelations. The suitcase of gadgets, Natalie being a secret agent, the Octarians plotting against Inkopolis... There was no way the police would ever find Nat on their own now. They probably didn't even know about the Octarians. And the Octarians were making moves, apparently. Having taken out key NSS members, stolen the city's power source, and freed their allies, they were not messing around. Cole shook his head. The scope of the whole ordeal suddenly got a lot bigger than just finding Nat.

“Do you have a plan, Marie?”

“First off, call me Agent 2 from now on. And you're going to be Agent 4.”

“What do you mean?”

“Agent 4 of the NSS, right after Agent 3.”

Cole stared at the reports on the table, taken aback. “I... I don't think—”

“You wouldn't back out on me, would you?”

Cole said nothing.

“If you don't want to help me, then you should leave right now,” said Marie. “Sure, you're not very cultured, but you're perfect for the job. You're a big, tough guy. You look like you can handle yourself in a fight. And you have a personal stake in this, too—Natalie is still out there. She needs you. The whole city needs you.”

“You can do better than me,” Cole protested. “Why don't you get law enforcement involved?”

“I've tried. They're slow to do anything, and they require evidence to act.”

“Ain't all this evidence?” Cole said, sweeping his hand over the papers on the table.

“That's proof the Octarians were responsible for what happened two years ago. There is no hard, irrefutable evidence of Octarian activity right now, just a lot of coincidences.”

“Why does the NSS only have three members?” asked Cole.

“We have four officially involved with clandestine services. Three agents and our captain.”

Cole paused. “Wait, if your captain ain't Agent 1, then who is?”

Marie remained silent for several seconds before Cole asked again. “Who is Agent 1? And why ain't he helping you?”

“She. Agent 1 is a she,” Marie finally answered, after another lengthy pause. She closed her eyes. “Agent 1 is Callie, my cousin. She's also missing, and I have no idea where she went. At all. No leads, no nothing.”

Cole remained silent and continued listening.

“Nothing!” Marie bemoaned through gritted teeth. “And I live with her. We saw each other every day until she up and disappeared. That's why I need your help.”

Cole didn't know how to respond. On one hand, he was annoyed that Marie's little secret society did not have its act together. What _wasn't_ the NSS missing right now? But on the other hand, he also felt sorry for Marie. She was fighting alone, searching for clues about her missing cousin and going up against enemies who far outnumbered her. That sounded terrifying. Cole was, quite frankly, impressed with how composed she kept herself.

Cole's father had always told him to never turn away from someone in need. Cole himself thought that it was a horrible maxim to live by, since it meant helping just about everybody and leaving no time for yourself, but turning away from someone as obviously in need as Marie would have riddled Cole with guilt. After all, he and Marie were in similar situations. They were both looking for someone close to them who had gone missing.

His father had also told him to never turn a blind eye to something he knew was wrong, and anybody kidnapping or otherwise hurting Nat was about as wrong as it got.

“All right,” said Cole, “I'm in.”

Marie smiled. “Welcome aboard, Agent 4. Know how to fire a gun?”

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**


	6. Chapter 6

“It seems that some Octarians can assume humanoid form. These specimens have superior physical capabilities and are highly aggressive. But what motivates them, if anything at all?”  
—Sunken Scrolls 1:9 (2.6)

 

 **Saturday, 1:45 p.m.  
** **East of Inkopolis**

 

Cole adjusted his hat, examining his getup. It wasn't anything particularly fancy or secret-looking. In fact, the outfit that Marie had given him, a baseball cap and black nylon jacket, looked pretty normal. He was hoping for something like in the movies, maybe a black suit with sunglasses or a ninja uniform. Oh well, at least everything fit. On his back, he carried a backpack full of supplies: enough food to last two people a day or so, a submachine gun, a crowbar, a hammer, lockpicks, and flashlights. Cole felt like a thief with all this break-in gear.

He looked over at Marie, who had tied her hair into a ponytail and put on her own spy gear. That consisted of a dark green cap, a face mask, and a hoodie. Instead of a backpack, Marie had a brown messenger bag, presumably with more supplies. She slung a black rifle over her shoulder, but he supposed that it wasn't an ordinary hunting rifle. The otherwise familiar bolt-action model had a modified barrel and custom long-action bolt that he had never seen before. Cole had grown up around firearms, but that weapon looked threatening.

The pair walked east, further away from Inkopolis. The plan was to stop by Tentakeel Outpost, a small hilltop outpost on the way to Suction Cup Lookout. The lookout, according to Marie, was a coastbound military station situated between Octo Canyon and official Inkling territory. It was active and lightly guarded, and it currently held prisoners Agent 3 and Captain Cuttlefish. Cuttlefish was a Great War veteran as well as the founder and leader of the NSS.

On the other hand, Tentakeel Outpost, their intermediate stop, was in the middle of the woods. The Octarians had completely abandoned Tentakeel because of its inconvenient location, which made it perfect for the NSS. For years, it had served as a secret point of contact between NSS agents and their embedded informants. For the past month, Marie had been picking up reports left in the outpost, hoping to learn something about her missing comrades. She wanted to check the place for updates today, just in case anything had come by.

From where they stood, Marie pointed out the outpost in the distance. Cole could see a small set of buildings surrounded by a chain-link fence. He reached into his pants pocket out of habit but found nothing—Cole had left his phone at the shack. He and Marie were wearing earpiece radios, but he missed having his phone. He sometimes messaged people while trying to get somewhere. In fact, he often caught up with Natalie that way, texting her while getting groceries or walking home. He still needed an excuse to tell both their families. Everyone was expecting Cole to come back soon. He wasn't exactly needed at home on the farm, as the Leoidea family could make do with his mother, father, and two brothers just fine, but his trip to Inkopolis was supposed to last no longer than three days. Today was Cole's third day out, and from the looks of it, he'd be away for a while longer. He'd have to think of something to tell everyone.

The agents reached the abandoned outpost, three brick houses with broken windows and a collapsed sentry tower. An old fence with a low metal entrance gate surrounded the perimeter.

“Stay here,” Marie instructed, climbing over the gate. “Let me know if anyone comes by.”

Cole set his backpack against the fence and sat down. Tentakeel Outpost was situated atop a hill and surrounded by light forest. Except for the dirt road that led them here, there were no other signs of civilization. It reminded Cole of where he went for runs.

After several minutes, he thought he heard a voice. Someone was talking on the other side of the gate. Cole got up and peered into the gate but couldn't see anything.

“Agent 2, I hear someone inside,” Cole said into the transmitter.

“She's a friendly,” came the reply. “I'll introduce you in a moment.”

After several more minutes, Marie returned with a tall girl. The two of them climbed over the gate and stood in front of Cole. On closer inspection, the stranger was actually about his height, with puffy red hair that gave her almost an extra foot over him. She wore a dark blue track jacket and black running pants and appeared to be quite fit. The stranger gave Cole a mischievous grin, revealing two rows of sharp teeth. He couldn't quite put a finger on why, but she didn't look normal. Her hair and eyes, in particular, seemed unusual somehow.

“Agent 4, this is Cece,” said Marie. “She's one of our informants from the other side.”

Cole offered Cece a handshake. “Nice to meet you,” he said, trying to examine her face without being too obvious about it. Cole had only ever met a few people he could look in the eye without tilting his head forward or hunching his back.

The girl folded her hands behind her back, looking down at Cole's outstretched arm and then looking back up at his face. She kept grinning.

Marie laughed. “Octarians don't greet each other like that, Agent 4,” she said. “Not all of them have hands.”

He awkwardly returned the arm to his side.

Cece nodded at him, finally speaking. “Nice to meet you too, Agent 4. I'm Cece Elias.”

“Your work is absolutely crucial to us right now,” said Marie. “Thanks again.”

Cece turned to Marie. “I couldn't find everything you asked for,” the Octoling replied. “But I hope it's enough.”

Cole continued to stare at the Octoling. So this was an Octarian, then? She looked just like an Inkling! Cole knew that Octarians, like Inklings, eventually matured to a stage where they could maintain an upright form, but he had never seen or met any Octarians in person. Part of him even believed that they were made up just to scare children, though textbooks claimed that the Octarians had played a pivotal role in history. He was shocked, more than anything. Cece looked so ordinary. She could blend right into Inkopolis if she wanted to. Cole wouldn't have noticed an Octoling in a crowd before now.

Marie coughed, interrupting his thoughts. “If you're done gawking, Agent 4, I'd like to speak to you alone.”

“Right, back to my run,” Cece said, still grinning. “Stay fresh.”

As she left, heading away from the outpost, the agents continued moving east. Marie handed Cole one of two folders as they walked, opening the other folder herself.

“You've never seen an Octoling before, have you?”

“...No.”

Marie smiled. “They're a disciplined bunch, those Octarians. Not all of them work against us. If anything, there's just a huge language and culture barrier preventing us from fully understanding each other, but you'd never hear our captain say that.”

“She understood us fine.”

“Well, yeah, Cece works for us,” Marie answered, skimming through typed notes and handwritten messages. “I think she studied in Inkopolis for a while.”

Had Natalie ever meet Cece? Cole wondered. Cece probably knew of Natalie, at least, if she was specifically gathering intel on her whereabouts.

“You should probably read that,” Marie said, pointing to the dossier in Cole's hands. “It's intel on the Great Zapfish's whereabouts. Not great news, but it confirms my suspicions that the Octarians have baited it away again.”

“I'd rather not, if you can just tell me what it is.”

“Fine. The Great Zapfish flew through Octo Canyon and seems to be making a beeline for Cephalon HQ again. Just as I thought. That's where it went last time, lured in by Octavio.”

“Who?”

“Octavio. He leads a faction of Octarians who view the entire Inkling species as their mortal enemy. A real nutcase. He was responsible for orchestrating the Zapfish theft two years ago and—Oh, no.” Marie stopped in her tracks, staring at the last page of the second report. She flipped back a few pages, then checked the last one again, visibly distraught. “This could be bad.”

“What?”

“We should hurry. They transferred Agent 3 and the Captain out of the lookout yesterday. It doesn't say where to, though. And there's nothing on Callie or Octavio, either. Ugh.”

“Still worth checking out the lookout, right?”

“Yes. Suction Cup Lookout is our best bet. We can find out where they took the prisoners.”

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**


	7. Chapter 7

“Before the Great War, there were amicable relations between the Inklings and the Octarians. They couldn't have dreamed that rising sea levels would force them to battle fiercely over the remaining territory.”  
—Sunken Scrolls 1:16 (2.3)

 

**Two months ago  
** **Deep within Octarian territory**

 

Octo Valley was a marvel of nature and a treacherous deathtrap. Its craggy peaks, alpine lakes, and vast forests commanded respect from even the most experienced of hikers. Anyone who survived the mountainous journey to center of the Valley would find a high plateau drained by several rivers. Waterfalls cascaded over hidden tunnels, ancient structures, and decaying remnants of a long-lost civilization.

It was a nice place for the NSS headquarters, all things considered. Situated within the plateau, the headquarters appropriated whatever was left of the ruins and turned them into a serviceable facility. The New Squidbeak Splatoon watched over the highlands, remaining hidden while having a decent view over the whole area.

The HQ was also a top-secret prison. Today was Callie's turn to deliver meals to the only prisoner. Her job was to put the food down and leave, but nobody was going to stop her if she stayed a little longer. There were no pressing issues at hand, and chances were, Gramps was asleep at his desk anyway.

“Hello again, Octavio,” she shouted down the hall, opening the prison door with one hand while balancing a tray of food in the other. The short hallway to Octavio's cell was brightly lit, with blue-grey walls and several empty holding cells. Callie flashed her key card into the cell door, and it unlocked with an affirmative buzz. Inside was a small, white room with a table, chair, and bed. Octavio got up from the chair as Callie entered, keeping his two front arms crossed all the while. She placed his dinner on the table. Then, leaning against the wall, she pulled out a pistol, just in case. Callie honestly doubted that he would or even could try anything on her, but it never hurt to be cautious.

Octavio acknowledged neither the food nor the gun. “Have you given my words any thought?” he asked her, his voice as gravelly and hoarse as ever.

“Yes, and I have questions,” Callie answered, keeping her eyes on the ground. “Why did you spend so many resources on weaponry if you despise war so much?”

“I wanted to _win_ ,” said Octavio, not moving from his spot. “Does that not make sense?”

Callie crossed her arms and turned to look at him. “Why didn't you look for diplomatic solutions? You could have beseeched the city of Inkopolis for help. Bring up your power shortages, the famine, overcrowding, and infrastructure collapse. Tell them how you were on the brink of a civil war, and how people starved to death in the—”

“That was the _first_ thing I tried. Your city did not care. They continued to waste time on _frivolous_ matters while my people grew impatient and frustrated.”

“That still doesn't justify stealing the Zapfish to build weapons of mass destruction.”

“Again, I wanted to _win_. I knew Inkopolis was not prepared for war. Shock and awe make for quick victories.”

“Come on, you were beaten back by three people,” Callie reminded him, shooting him an incredulous look. “You can't seriously believe that an entire city would ever surrender to you.”

Octavio let out a sigh. “You stopped me in my tracks before we were ready,” he said. “With the help of Octarian technology, a decisive victory _could_ have unified the Octarians and put an end to the dissension that plagued our ranks. It was worth the risk of failure.”

“So you wanted a common enemy, huh? Make us the target? Kill all the Inklings so that you Octarians can all get along and play nice?”

“Problematic thinking, certainly, but I'm sure _you_ would have done the same for your people had you been in my place.”

Callie shook her head, chuckling. “No, violence begets violence.”

“Sayeth the one to whom an _untold number_ of my kinsmen have fallen.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Spare me your hypocrisy. What is your line of work again? Your job is to kill people, and my people, specifically. You hold music festivals in the city while our world falls apart. You throw energy away like _garbage_ while we hunt for scraps and _watch_. The Octarians are more than justified in taking extreme measures when _our very lives are on the line_.”

Callie could not think of a good comeback to that.

“You can try to take the moral high ground. You can try to pin the blame on _me_ to make this easier for yourself. But I know you're smarter than that. You know who started this, and you know who has the power to stop this.”

Callie furrowed her brow at the octopus. “Hey, this isn't my fault,” she said, somewhat indignant. “I'm just following orders.”

“No, it's not just your fault, but the fault of the city from which you take your orders. Everything up until now has been a result of your people's choices, actions, and lack thereof.”

Callie closed her eyes and uncrossed her arms, letting them fall to her sides. “So you think we have a responsibility to take care of you, then,” she said, shoving her empty hand into her pocket.

“And do you not? Do the _strong_ not have a responsibility to look after the _weak_?”

“That's where I find myself thinking you might have a point.”

“It's an uncomfortable realization, isn't it?” Octavio also uncrossed his arms and opened them as if to embrace the air. “I'm glad we can agree on something, here.”

Callie sighed. “I guess we Inklings are the bad guys.”

“I never said that _all_ Inklings are bad,” Octavio replied, sitting down very slowly in front of his dinner. “Most of you are ordinary citizens, I'm sure. But the powers that be enforce unfair, inequitable systems. People are getting hurt. That is bad, and that's what needs to change.”

Octavio began eating, while Callie got off the wall and stretched. She paced back and forth for a minute as Octavio gave his full attention to the tray of food. After a minute or so, he looked back up at Callie.

“Two years ago,” he started, “I made the mistake of thinking that I, a crusty old Great War veteran, had the power to _fix_ things.” He carefully took another bite, then continued. “My people were hungry for justice, and I thought that I could give them that. I tried to do the right thing, but I went about it in the wrong way. So, here I am now, rotting in a cell.”

Callie holstered her gun back on her belt and turned to face him. “The world is so unfair,” she said.

“It's been two years since then, Agent 1. I think about my home _every day_. And I _worry_. We deserve peace, but I fear we may never find it.”

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**


	8. Chapter 8

“Welcome to Octo Canyon, the world's most gorgeous gorge.”  
—Sunken Scrolls 2:28 (B)

 

**Saturday, 9:53 p.m.  
** **The Eastern Cape**

 

With one last rundown of the map and their respective roles, the agents turned toward their destination. Cole shivered in anticipation. It was time to move. Ahead of them was a small concrete facility, staffed with armed guards and patrolled by two Secure Quarantine Enforcement Guardians—automated camera cars that could track and chase targets. Past those robots and two lookout towers was the inside of the facility itself, which hopefully contained information regarding the prisoners' whereabouts. The agents, unfortunately, had little idea of what to expect once inside.

Suction Cup Lookout sat on a cliff overlooking the Eastern Sea, with the moon shining down on its western face. The agents approached the lookout from that direction, with the moonlight illuminating their path while keeping them cloaked in the shadows. They readied their convertible rifles on top of a nearby hill. With tranquilizer darts loaded, Cole took aim. In his head, he remembered the plan.

 

_We'll take out the guards in the towers first. I'll take left, you take right._

 

Cole set his sights on the target, a single-tentacled Octarian handling a mounted machine gun. He aimed below the guard's face, at what he thought was a neck. This Octarian didn't really have a neck, but Marie's fast-acting Low Tide serum would work its magic before the guard could react, regardless of where Cole hit him.

“On my mark,” whispered Marie. “…Now.”

Two darts zipped out almost in unison, making a satisfying _pi-pip_ sound from their respective chambers. Both darts found their mark. The Octarians in the towers slumped over within seconds.

“Nice. Two down, let's move,” Marie said, nodding at Cole.

This was exciting! The modded rifle was so slick with its shots, and also he just totally took that guy out. On the inside, Cole was pumped, but on the outside, he tried his best to look cool and composed. And to not trip over anything in the dark. Now was not the time to get too excited.

He followed Marie down the hill toward the building. It had a front door, back door, and several windows. Two Secure Quarantine Enforcement Guardians, or Squee-Gs, as Marie called them, slowly patrolled the perimeter.

“You know, there's something about these giant Squee-Gs that's kinda totally adorable,” she said.

Cole rolled his eyes, shaking his head. He slung his rifle back over his shoulder and pulled out a submachine gun. This model was impressively compact, short enough to fit into his backpack. He liked its design, too. An ambidextrous grip and top-mounted magazine made using it easy, and the gun's small size belied its long effective range. The NSS had good tech on its side.

By comparison, the Octarians had only unconventional, questionably functional tech. The Squee-Gs, for example, were a great idea in theory, implemented in a humorously barebones fashion. The boxy suckerfish bots saved the lookout on manpower, sure, but they lacked a method of actually dealing with intruders other than directly running into them. On top of that, Marie had said that they often had trouble telling friend from foe.

 

_The two Squee-G bots can only see in front of them. They circle around the place once every ten minutes, giving us less than five to get inside after one passes the front door._

 

The agents waited for the Squee-G closest to them to pass before hurrying up to the lookout. The windows by the door showed light from the inside, but nobody sounded the alarm or tried to stop them.

Once at the door, Marie loaded and cocked a pistol. She aimed straight through the door, above a slightly crouching Cole. He turned the door handle and pushed in, surprised to find the front door unlocked. For all their diligence, the Octarians probably weren't expecting anyone to break into Suction Cup Lookout.

Marie relaxed her stance. “All clear,” she said. “Taking the closest room on my left.”

Cole went in after Marie, closing the door behind him as quietly as he could. They stepped slowly through another doorway to the left, which led into a small, rectangular room with two desks and a table. A hanging lantern cast a yellow light down onto the table, where a coffee mug and a pile of magazines sat. With no guards in sight, Marie started rummaging through the desks and opening all the drawers. Cole watched the doorway.

 

_There are six rooms in Suction Cup Lookout. Be prepared for anything. We'll sweep through the rooms, clockwise, starting with the room closest to the door. I'll do the searching. You cover me._

 

A few minutes later, Marie pointed two fingers out the doorway, signaling to Cole that she was done. He stepped outside, scanning nearby rooms for activity. The next room to the left had its lights on. Cole could hear someone inside, typing on a keyboard. He flashed Marie a warning, a single finger from his left hand. She responded by taking a tranquilizer dart off her belt.

Marie snuck into next room, gun in her right hand and tranquilizer dart in her left. As she crept forward, she kept her gun pointed at a seated Octoling, whose back faced the door. He hadn't noticed them. Cole, still standing out in the hall, got on one knee. He trained his sights down the hallway. He kept his focus straight ahead, looking for movement and listening for sounds. Someone could come into the hallway at any time, and he needed to be ready.

Cole heard the Octoling in the room behind him gasp and fall on the floor. Marie successfully stuck the dart into him, apparently.

Just then, two Octarians came into view. Like the sentries outside, they were of the single-tentacled variety, faces with legs. They stepped out of a dark room two doors down Cole's right. Upon noticing an intruder pointing a gun at them, they simultaneously jumped in surprise. The Octarian on the right opened his mouth, about to say something.

Cole's finger was faster, however. He squeezed the trigger twice, killing both guards in a splatter of dark purple.

“Two down,” he whispered into his earpiece. “Should we pull out?”

“Not yet,” Marie replied from the room, somewhat frantically. “Hold them off for a sec.”

 

_If things get hot, we get out. Immediately. In case we get separated, meet back on this hill._

 

This wasn't the plan, Cole wanted to say. His heart pumped, adrenaline levels surging. He was afraid and exhilarated all at once, but he supposed that he could give Marie a few more seconds.

“Got it,” he answered.

He kept his gun trained on the doorway with two corpses in it, just in case anybody else wanted to come out. Sure enough, a third Octarian stumbled through, an armed Octoling. Cole fired three shots at him, with the third shot hitting the Octoling's forehead.

Never even saw it coming, Cole thought.

By now, Octarian chatter and footsteps sounded throughout the small building. The other guards must have heard the gunshots. As the chatter drew closer, Cole fought back the urge to panic, trying to discern _where_ and _how many_. He focused on just what he could see. Not counting the rooms behind him or the doorway he currently had his aim on, there were four other possible points of entry that he had to watch: the back door, the closer doorway on Cole's right, and two on his left. His position looking down the hallway put all four points close together in his field of vision but provided him with no cover. Cole was sitting out in the open, and if he didn't react fast enough, well… he would simply have to react fast enough. He had more trigger discipline than to simply spray down the hall—that would give him away—but he feared that he wouldn't be able to take out everything that came his way in time. There was only one Cole, multiple hostiles, and a very real possibility of getting shot if he stayed here any longer.

Long shadows danced across the right wall. Cole reflexively adjusted his aim to their source, snapping a bit to the left. Good, they revealed themselves. Two or more guards were coming from the far left room with the lights on.

“At least two more in the back. We need to leave, Agent 2.”

“Let's go.”

Marie darted out the doorway behind Cole and went for the exit. Cole remained in position. All of his focus went to the three Octarians rounding the corner. The middle one piloted some sort of miniature tank using his one tentacle. The armored wheelchair-looking thing had a cannon and a front-facing shield, and it weathered Cole's shots without stopping. The two Octarians flanking it handled smaller cannons. All three guards bore down on the agents.

“Run!” Marie yelled.

Still facing the Octarians as he backed out, Cole fired a few more shots at his pursuers. One of their cannons went off, missing its mark and hitting the wall right next to Cole.

The resulting blast knocked him off his feet. He landed outside with a thud, the wind knocked out of him. Now fully panicking, he tried to scream out in terror. But he couldn't breathe. His entire body felt paralyzed. A siren blared to his left. He turned his head, and the colorful, flashing lights of a giant Squee-G greeted him.

As he lay on the ground, Cole noticed Marie out of the corner of his eye. She lobbed a small object over the Squee-G. Just when it seemed ready to run him over, the Squee-G instead pivoted away from Cole and toward the three Octarians trying to exit the front door, where Marie's flashing beacon had landed. The Squee-G charged at the distraction, crushing one of the cannoneers and crashing into the middle Octarian's wheelchair tank.

Cole struggled to his feet, grabbing his hat and gun from the ground, and made a hasty retreat. That was terrifying. That was almost the end for him.

That was the most fun Cole ever had in his life.

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**


	9. Chapter 9

“The first battles of the Great War ended in victory for the Octarian forces. The diligent Octarians easily dominated the Inklings, who were unable to wake up early enough in the morning to defend themselves.”  
—Sunken Scrolls 1:12 (3.3)

 

**Sunday, 5:01 a.m.  
** **Cuttlefish Cabin**

 

Back under the shack, Cole checked his phone for messages. He had several, as well as seven missed calls from his mother and Mrs. Tilus. He sighed, rubbing his eyes. What would he tell them? He could say that he was helping the authorities search for Natalie. That wasn't entirely false, but he'd get a lot of questions that he didn't want to answer. He could try telling them that he found a new lead on his own. No, too ambiguous. He'd get even more questions.

He eventually went with a lie. _I couldn't find Nat, but I'm sure she'll turn up. Visiting a friend from high school, be back in a few days_. Not really in character for Cole, but at least it sounded more plausible than _Brb saving Nat from terrorists_. He flopped onto the couch and yawned. By now, the sun should be rising. Cole was tired, and he couldn't remember when he had last slept.

Meanwhile, Marie sat at the safe house's computer, reading through decrypted documents. She had grabbed a laptop from Suction Cup Lookout and pulled its storage device out. It was their only hope for new leads, at least for the time being.

“Hey, Agent 4, check this out,” she said enthusiastically.

“Just tell me what it is.”

“We've got some good intel! Get over here.”

“...What's it say?”

“You're no fun,” Marie huffed. “Two things. One, where Agent 3 and the captain went.” Cole sat up. “And two, there's a cell of Octolings already in Inkopolis. They're serious about getting their hands on more Zapfish.”

Cole walked over to the computer, looking over Marie's shoulder. He asked, “Where they take 'em?”

“You mean Agent 3 and Gramps?” Marie pointed to a word on the screen. “A place called Beaker's Depot. Some kind of armory in Octo Canyon, apparently.”

“How do we get there?”

“Hm… it's in Octo Canyon, but that's all I know,” Marie answered, touching her chin. “I'll ask Cece to investigate for us, get a map and give us the low-down. But we need to deal with this Octoling cell, first. They have a nighttime op planned in The Reef, a popular shopping and recreation district. Stealing a bunch of Zapfish during construction, from the looks of it. We can intercept them pretty easily, if this plan here is what they're going by.”

“We should hand that intel over to the police. We can let law enforcement deal with it while we do our rescue.”

Marie gave him a stone-cold stare. “Didn't you hear me? We don't know anything about the place yet. We'll get to Beaker's Depot after we have enough info to actually form a plan. And you know how the cops work—everything they get involved in goes on TV. That's a no-go.”

“Let's just charge in, like we did today at the lookout. That worked out great.”

“That wasn't charging in. We had a plan. We knew what we were doing today because of Cece.”

“We knew nothing about who was inside.”

“Yeah, but today was different. Waltzing into a lightly-guarded lookout and stealing stuff is much easier than breaking people out of a fortified armory. Besides, the Octoling cell is making a move tomorrow night. We'll wait until—”

“No,” interrupted Cole. “We ain't got time. What if they take Natalie and your boss somewhere else again? We need to head to Beaker's Depot while the trail is still fresh.”

Marie turned back to the computer, resting her chin on her hands.

“We're short on people,” Cole added. “We get to the depot, and we can double our manpower and get our best agent back. I'm sure the boss would also appreciate not being locked up.”

“The captain would scold me for not doing my job,” Marie shot back. “My job in the NSS is to monitor threats and intervene on behalf of the citizens of Inkopolis. We have to go back to the city tomorrow. Ignoring a threat like this when we can stop it is like letting murder happen.”

“So is not going after Agent 3.”

Marie sighed, spinning her chair around to face Cole. She gave him one of her annoyingly long stares before saying, “I know you're concerned about Natalie. I kinda get how you feel. I still have zero idea where my cousin is, and honestly it's killing me inside.”

Cole felt a twinge of guilt.

“But we still have to take these one at a time,” Marie continued. “Inkopolis needs the Zapfish just as much as we need the Octarians to not have them. We'll get Agent 3 back, I promise. Just not right now.”

Cole said nothing. He was irritated, but Marie was right. Marie being right made him even more irritated, but lashing out would accomplish nothing. So, he swallowed his pride and let his frustration ebb. Marie was right. There would be a time to get Nat back, and that time was not now.

“Get some sleep, you deserve it,” Marie said. “There's a cot in that room, I'll take the couch. I'll notify Cece about Beaker's Depot first thing in the morning.”

“Fine. Night.”

Marie smiled. “Good night, Agent 4. Thanks for not getting me killed today.”

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**


	10. Chapter 10

“Heralded by loud explosions, the Great Octoweapons quickly stormed the Inklings' central stronghold. Victory for the Octarians seemed all but certain, but due to a plug being carelessly pulled from its socket, their hopes were dashed.”  
—Sunken Scrolls 1:13 (3.4)

 

**Sunday, 10:27 a.m.  
** **Cuttlefish Cabin**

 

The next morning, a truck pulled up outside the shack. Cole saw it on the live camera feed, a box truck painted black and green and covered in decals. It must have arrived before he woke up.

Marie sat at the table, checking her phone. She looked up at Cole as he walked into the central room. “You ready to go up?” she asked. “Our ride is here.”

“Did you tell Cece?”

“Yup, she said she'll scout out the place for us and get us a report as soon as she can.”

Cole grabbed his phone and the backpack of supplies, and they went outside. The driver stepped out of his truck to greet them. He was a short fellow, standing a full head shorter than Cole and clad in a faux military uniform. A red handkerchief was tied around his neck, and a set of thick goggles made his eyes look gigantic. A helmet, or maybe a shell or hair, even, sat on his head. He smiled at Cole, revealing buck teeth.

“Hello, hello! You must be the new guy!”

“This is Sheldon,” said Marie. “He's not officially affiliated with the NSS, but he helps us out from time to time. Thanks for coming all the way out here, Sheldon.”

Not officially affiliated? Cole wondered what being officially affiliated with the NSS even meant, given that all their operations were a secret in the first place. Who else was not officially affiliated with the NSS that he didn't know about? Why was Cole even needed if Marie had Cece, all the other informants out in Octarian country, and now Sheldon? Any of them could be helping her with this mess instead of him. He'd have to ask Marie about what affiliation actually entailed, later.

Marie tossed her bag into the back of the truck, and Cole followed suit. The cargo area was packed with boxes of ammunition and gun parts.

“Like what you see?” Sheldon asked, catching Cole looking at the boxes. “Wait until we get back to the shop.” Okay, the thing on his head was a shell, then, Cole figured. Sheldon was a horseshoe crab.

The three of them squeezed into the two-seater cab, with Marie taking the passenger side and Cole sitting between her and the driver's seat. Sheldon took them off the back roads and put them on a route directly to Inkopolis.

“What's your name, new guy?” Sheldon asked.

“Uh, Agent 4.”

“I mean your actual name.”

“...Cole.”

“Nice to meetcha, Cole. I'm Sheldon Shellendorf. I run a weapon store.”

What a fitting name, Cole thought to himself but did not say aloud. The truck barreled down an empty highway as greens, yellows, and greys streaked by outside. Signs pointing toward the city hung overhead.

“Sheldon is a talented weapon designer,” Marie chimed in. “He designed all our gear himself.”

That got Cole's attention.

“Aw shucks, Marie!” The horseshoe crab gushed, pretending to be embarrassed.

Cole asked, “You mean you made the stuff back there? The gadgets and guns?”

“Well, I didn't make all of it, per se, but I designed it all, yes.” came Sheldon's reply.

“Do you make any other guns that can go in either hand? Like, for, uh, left-handed folks?”

Sheldon beamed, keeping his eyes on the road. “You tried my bullpup SMG! That's one of my more recent designs.”

“Yeah, with the top-mounted mag. Slickest thing I've ever fired.”

“The one you used was an old prototype, actually,” Sheldon exclaimed. “I've got a newer model in the store, along with other southpaw-friendly pieces you can try out.”

“That'd be great!”

“Nerds,” Marie said, rolling her eyes.

“Hey, it's hard to find someone who understands everything I'm talking about!” Sheldon fired back. “Fellow gun nuts are one in a million.”

Cole was starting to like the little guy. He peppered Sheldon with more questions, which Sheldon seemed all too eager to answer.

“Your rifles fire darts. How'd you make them convertible?”

“That trick took me a while to figure out, but it's easy after you've done it once.”

“What do you think of oversized handguns?”

“Clunky, but everyone's got their thing.”

“You related to Ammoses Shellendorf by any chance?”

“He was my Grandpappy! Bless his heart.”

An hour flew by, at least for Cole. The trio arrived in the city proper before noon, working through light traffic and pedestrians to get closer to the ever-crowded Inkopolis Square. Sheldon parked his truck two blocks away and took the agents through the back entrance of his store.

Inside was the biggest indoor shooting range Cole had ever seen, complete with moving targets and a second story. He wondered if Natalie frequented this place, as she had always loved her target practice games. She and Cole used to spend hours every afternoon practicing at the range. Nat had a knack for setting new high scores almost every week, leaving Cole's personal records in the dust. Cole had solid aim, himself, but everyone in the Falls paled in comparison to the prodigious sharpshooter.

Nat's position in the NSS actually made some sense in hindsight, after he connected the dots.

Sheldon led them through a darkened corridor to the storefront area. He flipped a switch, turning on the lights and revealing shelves full of gun attachments, ammunition, and various accessories. Mounted weapons covered two entire walls. Further down, another door led to what Cole assumed to be a workshop. He could see a workbench inside, along with several hand tools.

“The lefty and ambidextrous guns are over there,” Sheldon told Cole, pointing to one of the shelves. “Feel free to take any of them for a spin. We're closed on Sundays, so the whole place is yours today.”

“Actually, we have word of an attack in The Reef tomorrow,” Marie said. “Three Octolings are breaking into the shops during construction. Agent 4 and I need to prepare.”

“Oh, then perfect!” Sheldon exclaimed. He dove through the doorway to his workshop, leaving the agents in the store. When he emerged, he was holding two guns. “Custom built for urban warfare! This one is for you, Marie,” Sheldon announced, handing her a rifle. “I've increased the range and stability of the convertible rifle you like so much, and it still takes both tranq and standard ammo. It's what you're used to, but now even better! Perfect for your rooftop sniper style. And for you, Cole, the latest version of my bullpup.”

Cole took a white and orange submachine gun from Sheldon. The new paint job was slick, that was for sure. The gun looked cleaner and more futuristic than the black and yellow prototype from yesterday. It had the same overall shape, but with another handle attached behind the existing trigger handle. Atop the magazine sat a reflex sight, and the back was fitted with a padded sling for carrying the gun around. The updated version felt heavier in Cole's hands. His fingers trembled with excitement—he really wanted to test it out.

“It's even sturdier than before,” Sheldon explained, “And I've taken the liberty to add a fully automatic fire option.” He pointed to a small switch located at the foot of the trigger. “The switch is centered here, so you can flick it with either hand. Go on, give it a try!”

Cole didn't need to be told twice. He turned around and went straight to the shooting range.

“Remember to use hearing protection!” Marie yelled after him.

“I'm sure this isn't his first rodeo,” Sheldon said. “Cole looks like he knows how to use a gun. Besides, it sounds like you two were already shooting at Octarians yesterday.”

Marie looked at her own gun, weighing it in her hands. “Speaking of which,” she said, “You're giving us your unfinished prototypes again, aren't you? We're trying to stop a terrorist cell, here. This isn't really the time for experimenting.”

Sheldon chuckled. “These works of art are not prototypes, trust me. I've tested them extensively. But I can always use some more practical battle data.”

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**


	11. Chapter 11

“Lady Luck shone down on the Inklings, and historians today agree that the Inklings' victory over the Octarians was mostly due to their superior number of limbs.”  
—Sunken Scrolls 1:14 (3.5)

 

**Monday, 7:19 a.m.  
** **Inkopolis**

 

The agents took the rest of Sunday afternoon to plan, prepare, and review. They spent the night at Sheldon's apartment, a twenty-minute walk from the Square, and reviewed their plans again the next morning.

According to Marie's decrypted documents, three Octolings were aiming to break into two department stores and an indoor bike park sometime between 10 and 11 p.m. They wanted to steal the Zapfish that powered the places' backup generators. Two would meet one coming from the other direction at the corner of 16th Street and 214th Avenue, the heart of The Reef, before they would split up to do their dirty work. Due to ongoing renovations, the whole block was closed to the public. Cole could simply walk in at night when nobody was around to stop him. His job was to lie in wait at the corner of 17th and 214th to cut off escape routes. Marie, on the other hand, planned to climb onto the roof of a store on 17th Street, where she had clear sight lines to all locations of interest. Her job was to initiate the surprise attack.

They would take no chances tonight. If Marie could tag all three from her position, then Cole and Sheldon would round up the tranquilized Octolings, pick up Marie on 212th Avenue, and take everyone out to the shack for a round of interrogations. If Marie missed any, then Cole would simply shoot whoever was still standing. The goal was to keep it quick and quiet.

Marie stood up and stretched. “Let's go get breakfast,” she said. “I need a break from all this serious stuff.”

Cole glanced at a clock on the wall. “Still early. Should we wait for Sheldon?”

“Oh, Sheldon is already at the shop. He always opens Ammo Knights at dawn.”

They exited the apartment, walked to the Square, and sat down at an outdoor cafe. The seating area had several small tables for two, a few already filled with other Inklings chowing down on breakfast pastries. The morning skies were overcast, with the sun peeking through only occasionally.

“Won't anyone recognize you, Agent 2?” asked Cole between sips of coffee. Both agents had traded their black uniforms for street clothes.

“Not a big deal,” she answered. “Most people are too busy doing their own thing. And it's been a while since I've written, sung, or performed anything, actually. I wouldn't be surprised if nobody noticed me.”

Cole looked at the senior operative across from him. With her ponytail, striped T-shirt, and sweatpants, Marie looked like an ordinary civilian. But after having seen her in action, Cole knew better than that. “You're a pretty crazy pop star,” he said. “And I mean that in a good way. You talked about disposing of bodies after interrogations like nothing. You ain't afraid a gettin' your hands dirty. You're tougher than nails. Yet you also do music and go on TV. That's something else.”

“It's my job,” Marie answered, giving him a smirk. “And being famous is not as hard as you think. Turns out, decent singing ability plus some auto-tune goes a long way. Most of it is just luck, anyhow.”

“I could never do it.”

“Don't sell yourself short,” Marie said. She paused to add a packet of sugar to her cup of coffee. “You've got a steady hand, you're level-headed, and you work on an oyster farm, right? That's pretty cool. Tell me more about that.”

“I, uh, there's not much to say. My family raises oysters. They're gentle creatures and they give us meat, shells, and pearls.”

“How big is your farm?”

“Medium-sized, I guess.”

“You ever try any other kinds of work?”

“Like, work for money? Nah.”

“Why not?”

Cole paused to think for a moment before responding. “Never needed to. Raising oysters is satisfying work, and we earn more than enough to get by. I'm happy staying by my family's side and keeping the farm running after Mom and Dad are too old.”

Marie nodded. “Wise words, coming from an eighteen-year-old.” She looked down at her cup and swirled the liquid around. “You know, you're pretty mature for someone your age.”

“Really, now? I think it's just 'cause I'm quiet. I guess I am the big brother at home, though.”

“Aren't you skipping school, Cole? It is Monday now.”

Cole laughed. “No, I dropped out a while ago. You don't need a high school education to raise oysters.”

“Gotcha.”

A waitress came by with their food. Marie had ordered a croissant. Cole went to work on a stack of pancakes.

“Did you and Natalie go to the same school?” asked Marie, watching Cole cut six syrup-drenched pancakes at once.

“Yeah,” he answered. “Nat was a genius. She graduated when she was, like, thirteen or fourteen. Ran varsity track and kept up with the bigger kids, too.”

“Dang, so she moved out right after graduation, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“She also grew up on a farm, right?”

“No, her parents run a hardware store.”

“Gotcha.”

A brief silence followed as Cole shoved the first forkful of pancake into his mouth.

“So, what's your plan after all of this, Cole?” asked Marie. “Will you head back to Razorback Falls? You could continue working with us. I'll save you an official position if you'd ever consider joining us for real.”

Cole swallowed. “No,” he said, stabbing at another bite with his fork. “I'll help you until we find your cousin, but after that, I'm going home.”

Marie added another pack of sugar to her coffee and nodded. “That's fair,” she said.

“You know, you never did clarify your terms,” said Cole. “Said you wanted my help, but you never said how much. You call me Agent 4, but am I, uh, _officially_ affiliated? I don't have the kind of training y'all do, and I'd probably get in the way after your real agents come back. Or I could done get killed. My family back home still thinks I'm running around asking for Nat at hospitals.”

Marie frowned. “I suppose you're right. I'm sorry about rushing everything. I was honestly getting desperate last week, but you came along at the perfect time.” She propped her face against her left hand, elbow on the table, and lowered her voice. “How about this? Don't worry about any of that for the rest of today. I need your one-hundred percent tonight, but we'll talk business afterward. Terms, compensation, all that.”

“I didn't mean I wanted money or anything,” Cole said with a shrug. “I just wanna know exactly what you expect out of me.” Honestly, he was hoping to just get Nat out alive and not die himself. The excitement from doing this secret, investigative field work was payment enough.

Marie nibbled at her croissant, staring at the rapidly diminishing stack of pancakes in front of Cole. “It's funny,” she said. “We recruited Natalie the same way, with Gramps befriending her out of the blue. She didn't get any proper training until way later, and had to learn a lot while out in the field.”

“Was she also immediately thrust into life or death situations?”

“Oh, yes,” Marie responded. “Callie and I were really upset about it at the time. I mean, Captain dragged _a kid_ into our business. Natalie could have died a million times over, ratted us out, messed things up...” Marie sighed. “In retrospect, I criminally underestimated them both. Cap had a good eye, and Nat took everything like a champ, eventually rising to become the captain's right-hand agent, his ace in the hole. She's apparently a genius athlete, after all.”

“Ha, and she never told me any of this.” said Cole, adding a pack of sugar to his own coffee. “Always just said she was playin' paintball.”

“You two seem pretty close. I assume you're good friends?”

“Well, yeah, we was like family. She used to live next door. We was in the same grade for a while, too. She'd help me with homework, and I'd beat up anyone who made fun of her size.”

“Cute,” teased Marie. “I'm kind of glad to hear that Natalie has someone to worry about her. She never talks about her private life at work.”

“What's she like?”

Marie raised an eyebrow. “You mean on the job?”

“Yeah,” Cole clarified.

“Hm, kind of like you. Serious, responsive, and confident. She has good intuition, despite her young age. A little feisty, too, sometimes.”

“You two friends?”

“I suppose. We work side-by-side, but we don't talk that much. She's closer to the captain.”

“I see,” Cole said, finishing his food.

As the agents paid for their meal and walked back to the apartment, thick clouds rolled in and blanketed the sky with a layer of dark grey. As they double-checked their equipment and geared themselves up with beanies, face masks, black jackets, and long pants, the rain began to pour, continuing to fall until the evening. By 9 p.m., it had subsided into a light drizzle, and the agents moved out.

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**


	12. Chapter 12

“We Octarians dwell in a world deep underground... ...connected by a network...”  
—Sunken Scrolls 1:2 (1.2)

 

**Monday, 10:00 p.m.  
** **The Reef**

 

Streetlights, neon signs, and windows glowed in the distance, but the corner of 17th and 214th was completely dark. There were no lights from any direction for at least three blocks. Cole stood under the awning of a closed Mel's Shells and Bells, shielding himself from the light rain. All around him were cranes, rubble, and scaffolding. His boots were caked with mud, and wherever the ground lacked pavement there was soupy black dirt.

The Reef was normally a popular shopping district. Recently discovered safety code violations, however, had forced several building complexes to temporarily close and renovate. Since the affected stores had moved all of their goods out, nobody hired nighttime security to watch over the construction site. The Octarians, of course, were more interested in energy than merchandise. Because the Reef didn't exactly need power right now, several Zapfish remained completely unguarded inside the shops, forgotten. The Octoling cell must have thought this a perfect opportunity to steal them.

Cole clutched the back handle of his gun. His other hand repeatedly flicked the switch between semi and fully automatic. Marie confirmed getting into position almost half an hour ago, and Cole was waiting for her signal. His mind wandered back home to thoughts of his brothers, but he pulled it back to the present. Then his mind began to worry about botching tonight's mission. What if both he and Marie missed, and their targets got away? Nat was still out there, too. Was she okay?

Cole took a deep breath and took his finger off the switch. His attention needed to be right here, right now. Nothing else mattered. Wait for the signal. Shoot anyone still standing.

“Spotted,” came Marie through his earpiece.

Finally. He turned toward 214th Avenue, gun at the ready. If the thieves didn't run straight into Marie's fire, then they'd run into him. And he had a pretty scary weapon.

“Three total. Tagging the one in the back,” said Marie.

Cole felt his vision sharpen, and his mind collected itself. Make this fast, he said in his head. He heard sloshing footsteps coming his way, close enough to make out against the pattering rain. He approached the street corner slowly.

“One down.”

A shout. Someone muttered something.

“Two down.”

The footsteps got louder and faster—too close for comfort. Cole turned the corner and opened fire. Just five feet away from him, an Octoling fell to her knees and collapsed, having taken several rounds to the chest. A pair of goggles covered her eyes, but her face visibly contorted with pain.

Cole grinned with delight. He used to believe that fully automatic fire was a wild and uncontrollable thing, but in reality, it was impossibly smooth. Yesterday was the first time he had ever fired a fully automatic gun, and it was still just as satisfying today. The feeling of sheer power was unparalleled. No wonder this stuff was illegal.

Behind the Octoling he had shot, another figure lay slumped on the ground. Cole supposed that she was Marie's first target, knocked out from the serum. But something didn't add up.

Where was the third Octoling?

“She's running down 16th, follow her!” Marie radioed in.

Cole looked down at the dying Octoling in front of him. A tranquilizer dart stuck out of her shoulder.

Oops.

He stepped around her body and broke into a run.

“She went into the bike park, Agent 4!”

“Yeah, I'm going after her,” Cole responded. He turned another corner and went into a large gymnasium with a big sign labeled “Humpback Pump Track - Indoor Bike Park.” He caught but a glimpse of the fleeing Octoling as she limped into the darkness. Cole had apparently hit her with a stray bullet during his initial barrage, because she left a trail of magenta on the floor that wound deeper into the gymnasium.

He followed her in. It was still too dark to see much of anything, and Cole silently cursed himself for not bringing a flashlight. No matter, he thought. His prey had no places to hide. The gentle slopes and hills of a wide-open pump track could not conceal a whole Octoling for long.

She must have thought the same thing, because two flashes of light from the other side of the track greeted him. The first shot glanced off the concrete by Cole's feet, and the second missed completely, whizzing above his head. Handgun rounds, from the sounds of it. He crouched down in reaction, firing off two short bursts toward where he saw the muzzle flash and made his way around.

She had made no other moves by the time Cole reached her. He found her lying down, face up, bleeding from both legs. The Octoling gave no signs that she was aware of his presence, but Cole could hear her ragged breath.

“She's down but still alive,” Cole whispered. “What do I do?”

“Stick her with Low Tide and carry her out,” Marie replied through his earpiece.

He reached for his belt and pulled out a tranquilizer dart just as he saw the Octoling grab something from her own pocket. She weakly pulled the metal pin off of a small, round object and said something that he didn't understand. Then, she dropped the object at his feet.

Cole had seen enough movies to know where this was going. He ran all the way outside when he finally heard a deafening _bang_ , and he leaped to the rain-soaked ground. But no shockwave of force swept over him, and no pillars of fire consumed the building. No shrapnel hit him in the back. In fact, after he got up and wiped the mud off of his face, Cole found Humpback Pump Track looking exactly the same as before, at least from the outside.

The thought of going back in to retrieve the Octoling, however, chilled him.

“Agent 4? What happened?”

Did he have to go pick up whatever was left of her? How were they supposed to leave no traces behind now?

“Agent 4, come in. Are you okay down there?”

Cole clicked his earpiece off and then on again. “Yeah,” he answered.

“I only see you. Where is she?”

“The Octoling blew herself up.”

“ _What_?”

“What do I do?”

“Get back to 214th Avenue and load the two bodies into the truck. I'll meet you two on 212th.”

“W-what about the one in the bike park?”

“Don't. We don't have the time. We need to get out of here.”

Cole jogged through the wet alleyway back to the street, but he couldn't take his mind off that Octoling. She reminded him of Cece, with her puffy red hair. He couldn't ever imagine preferring suicide to getting caught, but then again, he wasn't Octarian. He struggled to rationalize her split-second decision making, the extreme measures she had taken to prevent capture.

Nat was also one for extremes. While she would never blow herself up, she often saw things in terms of black and white. One time, she managed to set a new personal record during a meet but came in third. It might as well have been a last-place finish, based on how hard she was on herself.

Just then, Sheldon's truck pulled up, and the little horseshoe crab hopped out of the cab. Cole silently helped him lift the Octolings into the back. With that done, Cole took the passenger seat and Sheldon drove down two blocks to pick up Marie. She climbed into the cargo area with the Octolings, and they were off.

“Good work, Agent 4,” she said through his earpiece. “The Zapfish are safe, and nobody saw us. Don't worry about the third one, we'll just go with the flow from here.”

But he did worry. The Octoling's conviction was so strong that she chose to die for her cause instead of facing capture. What did she think the opposition would do to her? That both frightened and disgusted Cole.

Somebody would find her body in the next few hours and see what happened. And then the whole city would know. Cole felt like he had failed, despite Marie's proclamation of success. He said nothing on their way out of Inkopolis, and thankfully, neither did anyone else.

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**


	13. Chapter 13

“Pandemonium ensued when pop star Callie was spotted at the airport by fans after wrapping up filming for her new upcoming TV drama in New Sardine. She smiled through it all, but it's clear to this reporter that the pressure of fame is getting to her.”  
—Sunken Scrolls 2:21 (4.6)

 

**One month ago  
** **Somewhere in Octo Valley**

 

This wasn't all bad, Callie thought to herself. She was the right-hand man to a powerful leader who had the backing of almost an entire nation. She was helping Octavio revive the resistance and fight for their shared belief in basic privileges. She would be on the right side of history this time, working with the Octarians to dismantle oppression and secure a future for everyone. Things were looking up for her, she thought.

But the looks that everyone gave Callie betrayed fear. They avoided eye contact, answered her questions with as few words as possible, and shrank from her presence. The soldiers under Octavio spoke of the NSS agents as if they were demons, unstoppable forces of death. To them, agents were natural disasters, plagues that swept through their ranks without a care in the world, predators who hunted down trained men with ease. And now, one of these demons was bringing their leader home. Of course they'd be wary. The Octarians paid Callie a begrudging respect, a respect that she had earned fighting against them. They had every reason to fear her, she regretfully concluded.

One month ago, Callie had decided that she needed time away from the spotlight. She had wanted to get away from the paparazzi and her overbearing fans, to get out of the public eye. What irony, Callie thought as she forced a smile. Now that she got exactly what she asked for, she felt very lonely. Nobody here wanted to talk to her, except Octavio.

That old man wasn't everything he had appeared to be, either. As Callie passed his tent, she could hear him chastising a soldier for something or other. Octavio was more than a strict, grandfatherly disciplinarian; if anything, Callie thought he was too cold with his men and not compassionate enough. He treated them poorly and set high expectations that they could never meet. Every perceived imperfection set him off on another tirade about the “new generation” and its “lack of character.”

As she wandered about the encampment, Callie's mind drifted to thoughts of Marie. Callie's smile gradually turned into a frown. Marie wouldn't have understood. She always kept her eyes glued to her next mission. She never questioned anything. Notions of justice or righting the wrongs of the past were beyond Marie's concern. Perhaps Callie did make the right choice in leaving Marie completely in the dark—Callie didn't want her cousin to worry or anything, but telling Marie that she and Octavio were escaping into Octo Valley would have been a horrible decision. Now, at least, Marie would waste precious time looking for her lost partner instead of immediately sabotaging all their progress.

Callie and Octavio needed all the time they could get. There was so much to be done. Communications between Octarian cells had fallen apart, according to the first soldiers they had met upon leaving the headquarters. Since Octavio's capture two years ago, the Octarian military had split into factions once again, an unfortunate reality expedited by the organization's cellular nature. Rumors of an impending civil war floated about, which meant that news of Octavio's big return needed to propagate throughout Octarian territory if they wanted to stand a fighting chance against Inkopolis. But that required coordination and cooperation between outposts, which required time. Bio-weapon research had also split up into disconnected, unfocused efforts, a far cry from the technological juggernaut that had once been pumping out the most frightening war implements imaginable. Invention and ingenuity were major assets to the Octarians, and Octavio knew it. Reorganizing and reconnecting the research and development arms of the Octarian army were absolutely crucial to achieving an eventual victory.

Finally, there was the problem of Old Captain Cuttlefish and Agent 3. Last week, in response to unusual activity, the captain had taken Agent 3 out to the cape for an investigation. He left his granddaughters in charge of watching over HQ, and the two of them had decided to take turns. On Callie's watch, one pair departed as another escaped. The captain's seabound expedition to the Eastern Cape would take several days, which was more than enough time for Callie and Octavio to find a nearby encampment and send a messenger out to the Canyon. Octarian forces could then mobilize in advance and capture the boat. Callie had insisted that the NSS members not be harmed. Everything hinged on capturing that boat, and Callie waited for news to come back with bated breath.

For now, they would tackle the problem of energy. The research facilities scattered around both the Valley and Octo Canyon needed Zapfish to run their experiments, and the cells of the Octarian resistance needed Zapfish to power their weapons. So, Octavio and his men planned to lure the Great Zapfish out with chemical pheromones, like they did two years ago, enticing it to fly off its usual path and toward the heart of Octarian country. They would also steal small Zapfish from the city individually, as needed. Callie worried that such a conspicuous approach would attract the attention of Inkling authorities, since the Octarians had done the exact same thing last time. But without the NSS, the Inklings were next to helpless anyway. The city's law enforcement was a huge joke, and everyone knew it.

Callie stared off into the distance, beyond the ruins of a lost civilization and beyond the trees concealing the Octarian encampment. She was doing the right thing. These were the good guys.

Right?

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**


	14. Chapter 14

“Why are we here? For what purpose do we exist? We must not dwell on these questions. We can merely trust in the will of the universe and spend our days and nights in harmony with the world, celebrating this festival called Life.”  
—Sunken Scrolls 2:24 (5.3)

 

**Tuesday, 12:07 a.m.  
** **Cuttlefish Cabin**

 

 _New messages!  
_ _Mom:_ Ok sweetie, have fun  
 _Mom:_ Stay safe in the streets

 

Marie and Sheldon were gone. The two of them had driven out to the cliffs to interrogate the last surviving Octoling and dispose of their bodies. Cole had quietly refused to go with them, staying behind under the shack instead. As he paced around the central room, waiting for his partners to return, he checked his phone. He had a couple of messages from his friends and family. It seemed that they had believed his high school friend story, and Mrs. Tilus had no updates on Natalie's whereabouts.

He wandered into the back room, which he had not yet had a chance to examine. Like the other two, this room was a rectangle, made up of poured concrete walls and a stone floor. A caged industrial light hung from the ceiling. Several workbench-like desks were pushed up against the left wall. Natalie's black suitcase and chunky handgun sat on top of one desk, while ropes, cords, and backpacks hung over the rest. Cabinets and shelves lined the walls between them, crammed with various tools and equipment. On the right wall, three wooden weapon racks held the prototype SMG, a few different pistols, and several rifles. Most of the rack space was empty. A small wardrobe in the back-right corner contained an assortment of outfits.

Cole was poking at some kind of bulletproof vest when he heard the entrance unlock with a click. He stepped out into the central room just as Marie pushed the big steel door open.

“That was fast,” Cole remarked. “Did the Octoling tell you anything?”

Marie pursed her lips and shook her head. “We couldn't understand each other. If only Callie was around... she learned a lot of their language, but I never did.”

He stiffened a bit, then asked, “Is the Octoling dead?”

“Yep, all part of the job,” Marie answered, without breaking eye contact. “Speaking of which, let's talk about your job.”

For the past hour, Cole had been trying to make sense of what he was doing as a so-called _agent_. He and Marie had killed people. He and Marie would probably kill more people. How far would he have to go? Cole felt slightly uncomfortable when he thought of the Octoling who had blown herself up, but only slightly. He decided that he could justify that kind of work. He wasn't murdering innocents. He was protecting the city, stopping the Octarian menace, and saving an old friend. He was doing this for Nat. He could kill a few more Octarians for her. He could kill a lot more, if necessary.

Several years ago, Cole had taken a personal defense training class in Razorback Falls, mostly because his father had made him do it. While he had picked up basic combat training then, he only ever saw it as a safety measure. Knowing how to operate a gun in self-defense was basic stuff that everyone should know, he had always thought. The idea of actually attacking and killing somebody had rarely crossed his mind, however, so Cole wasn't prepared for the psychological responsibility of having someone's blood on his hands.

What surprised him most was not how heavy this responsibility was, but rather how _light_. Killing was so easy. He didn't really care about those dead Octarians. He didn't see their faces at night. He wasn't scarred or traumatized at all. He was just apathetic. And this apathy freaked him out. Even worse, he found shooting armed guards and taking part in a night ambush engaging and _fulfilling_.

Did Nat feel the same way about working for the NSS?

Cole couldn't do this forever. Being an operative was too dangerous, and he wanted some way to make sure he avoided that obvious path of self-destruction. People needed him. Nico and Noddy needed him. They deserved an older brother who was guaranteed to come home every night. They deserved an older brother who wasn't some bloodthirsty monster. Despite his willingness to continue working with Marie, Cole couldn't reconcile the risks with his family responsibilities.

“Don't pay me,” he said. The sensible choice, then, was to close off opportunities for further involvement with the NSS.

“Slow down,” said Marie, as she put her hands in front of her. She sidestepped over to the table and sat down, putting both palms on its surface. “What, now?”

Cole pulled out a chair and joined her, placing his elbows down. Keeping his eyes on the table, he said, “It feels wrong to take money for killing people.” That was an easy to understand explanation, he hoped.

“Are you backing out on me?”

“No.”

“Well, then,” Marie started, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. “Good. I still need you until we find Agent 1 and Agent 3.”

“Okay,” Cole said. He breathed a sigh of relief. They were still on the same page, it seemed.

“We'll focus on getting into Beaker's Depot starting tomorrow. Cece said she's got something already.”

And it had only been a day, Cole thought. Cece was pretty good. Maybe she even had everything they needed to plan a proper break-in. Then they could save Nat, and Cole could go home soon.

He frowned. No, he couldn't go home yet. They still had to find Callie. Besides, this was fun, and he was just getting started.

He frowned again. No, this wasn't _fun_. He could not afford to think like that.

“Sounds good,” he said after a moment of hesitation. Cole rose to his feet and turned to the side room. He needed some time to think. Sleep would be nice, too.

Marie remained seated, but Cole could feel her eyes boring into him.

“Is everything okay?” she asked. “Stop worrying about what happened earlier.”

“I'll be fine,” Cole answered, not wanting to look at her. “I just don't want money.”

“You're getting reimbursed for your meals, at least. We'll pay for those and your travel expenses.”

Cole stopped in the doorway, grabbing the frame with one hand. “Please, Marie,” he protested, turning his head back. “I ain't short on cash or anything. And Sheldon been giving us rides. No real expenses.”

“I meant your train tickets.” Marie paused, then got up. She turned on the computer at sat down at the desk. “The reason you came out to Inkopolis looking for Natalie in the first place was because of the NSS. We'd be obliged to cover that even if you weren't risking your life for me.”

Technically, that wasn't true at all, since the NSS had not kidnapped Nat. But Cole was in no mood to argue semantics. He relented with a sigh. “So... I get food, a place to sleep, and round-trip train tickets,” he said. “And I'll help you with breaking out Nat and the captain. And finding your cousin.”

“Yes,” Marie said.

He supposed that was fair. “Fine. Do I gotta sign anywhere?”

“Ha, no,” Marie answered, smiling. “Just keep your word, and I won't have to hunt you down.”

“That ain't funny.”

“I'm not joking.”

“Fine.”

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**


	15. Chapter 15

“This scroll was found in a deep rock layer, its age estimated at approximately 2,000 years. It details the ancient Turf Wars of the time. It seems the ancient four-versus-four battle format had already been established at this stage.”  
—Sunken Scrolls 1:4 (2.1)

 

**Tuesday, 4:32 a.m.  
** **Cuttlefish Cabin**

 

“Agent 4, you awake?”

“Yeah.”

The Octarians were early risers, if today was anything to go by. Cece apparently wanted to meet with the agents before sunrise. That was early even for Cole, who normally woke up second in his family, after his father.

Marie had gotten up before him this morning. As they ate a hasty breakfast of granola bars and packed their equipment, Cole could see that exhaustion was catching up to her. Not only did she yawn constantly and say very little, Marie seemed kind of droopy. Her posture was slumped over more than usual, and it looked like she was wilting. Perhaps his eyes were playing tricks on him as a result of his own lack of sleep, but Cole thought that she looked pretty beaten down as she packed her messenger bag and led him out of their underground hideout. Wasn't Marie used to this sort of thing? Maybe she was simply worried about Callie.

The walk to Tentakeel Outpost went by without incident, and the agents found Cece standing in front of the gate. She unslung a rectangular backpack from her shoulder and flashed them both a toothy grin.

“Good morning, Cece. What did you want to show me so badly?” Marie asked.

The Octoling put her backpack on the ground and unzipped the top flap. She pulled out a notebook with tabs and papers sticking out of the sides. Opening the notebook, she grabbed a folded diagram of some sort and handed it to Marie.

“Map of the first floor of Beaker's Depot,” Cece said proudly. “I've got all six floors in here. I also have its location, who works there, and what they all do. Your captain and friend are still in there, and I know where they are, too.”

Marie gave her a nod. “Pretty impressive. This is almost more than we need.”

Cece stopped grinning. “I have one request,” she stated. “Promise me you won't hurt any of the unarmed researchers in Beaker's Depot.”

Cole shot Marie a look, but she was still facing the Octoling. Given that he had little idea of how Marie normally dealt with her informants, he was in no place to say anything. He thought that Cece might be overstepping some boundaries here, but perhaps this was perfectly normal.

Marie narrowed her eyes. “Okay, but why are there researchers at the armory?” she asked.

“They work there. Beaker's Depot is also a weapons testing facility and a biology lab. You need researchers to design experiments.”

“And why shouldn't we hurt them?”

“Because one of them is my dad.”

Cole glanced at the informant. She returned his look with a grin. This explained where she got all her maps from. If Cece's father was an Octarian researcher at Beaker's Depot, then she probably didn't want her father to know that she was handing intel to the NSS. But Cece had no way of telling him that he was in danger without blowing her own cover. It made sense; she wanted him to be safe, even if she was secretly working against him, in a way.

Marie seemed to arrive at the same conclusion. “Very well. We won't hurt any researchers,” she said. “Anything else we should know?”

“I'll help you plan the op.”

Marie frowned. “Why?”

“Because I know the fastest route, top to bottom, to the prisoners and back out the door,” Cece remarked, grinning again. “I know the place. The faster and more efficient you guys are, the better the chances are that my dad is safe. You're just planning to break the prisoners out, right?”

The three of them huddled up inside one of Tentakeel Outpost's dilapidated houses, and Cece proceeded to run through everything she knew about Beaker's Depot. According to her, the depot was located deep within Octo Canyon, closer to the edge of Octo Valley and further inland than Suction Cup Lookout. It was in the middle of a field, with many roads leading to it, so sneaking in would only be possible at night. Sentries patrolled a fenced-in, above-ground entrance, but the depot itself extended six levels underground. The fastest way in was simply through the front entrance, which put them en route to their target. The third floor's holding cells, situated on the north end of the depot, contained Agent 3 and Captain Cuttlefish.

“Why does Beaker's Depot hold prisoners?” Cole asked.

Cece grimaced. “Again, biological weapons research. They need test subjects.”

“...Test subjects for what?”

“Dietary experiments, exercise regiments, drug tests, anything really,” Cece said matter-of-factly. “Some of the subjects are volunteers for performance-enhancing experiments. But they get forced into more dangerous experiments involving permanent changes to their bodies and minds, sometimes.”

Cole stood up. So not only did the Octarians build weapons, they built their very soldiers. A fittingly unnatural course of action for a group that trusted suicide more than people. “That... that's horrible!” he shouted. The researchers probably deserved to die, but Cole knew better than to voice his opinions, let alone act on them thoughtlessly. He was tired, stressed, and concerned. He was still worried about Nat.

Cece remained seated, unperturbed by his outburst. “The experiments are all for Octarians. I don't think they'll do anything to your Inkling friends. They have no reason to make an enemy agent stronger.”

“Then what do your researchers want with them?” inquired a yawning Marie.

“They aren't _my_ researchers,” Cece stated. “I don't know if they even have plans for them, but I think they're holding on to your friends until someone higher up decides what to do with them. Without a real leader like Octavio, the Octarian forces are always debating left and right. There's always disagreement about what to do and how to do it. You guys are lucky they haven't decided to just off them yet.”

“Thanks again, Cece.” Marie cut in. “After Sheldon comes around with our gear, we'll be ready to move out. Agent 4, do you have any questions for Cece before she leaves?”

“No.”

“Then stand ready for the time being. I need a nap.”

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**


	16. Chapter 16

“Major changes to regulations by the powers that be have led to a call for the complete replacement and overhaul of all special weapons. Designers and manufacturers are struggling to comply with this new regulation.”  
—Sunken Scrolls 2:11 (3.2)

 

**Tuesday, 9:46 p.m.  
** **Beaker's Depot**

 

Cole got on one knee and took aim at the two approaching Octolings. Then, he pulled the trigger. A spray of buckshot knocked both Octolings into the wall, and Cole himself felt the black semi-automatic shotgun kick back against his shoulder. For a 12-gauge, this thing was impressively thin, which masked its high capacity—a hallmark of Sheldon's impeccable design. It loaded eight shells at once and fired them off without any pumping required. What it lacked in grace it made up for in sheer stopping power. It was a gas-operated semi-automatic, after all—a bit on the heavy side for Cole but perfect for this particular situation. Beaker's Depot had many winding hallways, which necessitated a lot of close-quarters combat.

Another Octoling guard rounded the corner as Cole was reloading. The Octoling readied his rifle, but Marie stepped in between him and her fellow agent, yanking on her own shotgun's iron sights. The little ghost ring served as a trigger for the weapon's secondary purpose: a ballistic shield unfurled from the barrel like an umbrella, blocking a wide area out in front of Marie. The shield absorbed several shots before Marie fired one herself, blasting the guard off his feet. She pulled on the sight ring again, collapsing the ballistic shield back onto the gun.

“Thanks,” Cole grunted.

“Nothing beats a brella!” said Marie, twirling her shotgun like a baton. With her free hand, she tapped Cece's stolen access card to the door, which lead down a floor. The card reader, however, did not react. The door remained locked.

“Ugh, they know we're here now,” Marie deduced. “These were working just a minute ago.”

“Let me,” offered Cole, emptying the buckshot rounds out of his brella shotgun and into his backpack. He loaded two breaching rounds—capsules full of wax-bound metal powder that wouldn't ricochet after being fired—into the chamber as Marie turned around to watch his back. Angling his gun down at the door handle, Cole fired. The locking mechanism fell out of the door, blown to pieces, and Cole shouldered the door open.

“So you do know how to breach a door,” Marie exclaimed. “You never fail to surprise me, Agent 4.”

Cole smiled. At the bottom of the stairwell, he blew open another door and both agents stepped into the third floor. Cole turned right, aiming his brella down the hall, and saw nothing, while Marie pointed her gun down the hallway to their left.

“All clear, apparently.” Marie declared, hesitantly. “Don't let your guard down.”

The agents snuck through one last hallway. The next one was supposed to be a row of cells, where Agent 3 and Captain Cuttlefish were. They were so close, now.

Almost everything had gone according to plan. All of Cece's info had been spot on except for the part about guard patrol schedules. Her counts of how many and details on when and where were all completely wrong. There were no Octarians where Cece said there would be, and there were Octarians where she said there wouldn't be. Thus, the agents had gotten inside the armory without a hitch but ran into hostiles almost immediately. That had set the whole place on high alert. So, Cole and Marie took the one option they still had, to go in hot, guns blazing. Sheldon's brella shotguns and armored jackets proved very sturdy.

As the agents turned down the hallway, they encountered the real problem. All of the holding cells were empty—there were no prisoners at all. Instead, two of the cell doors were swung wide open. Bits of dark purple stained the walls and floors, and the bodies of six, no, seven dead Octarians lay on the floor.

Of course they'd be gone already, Cole thought to himself. Of course this would happen. What else could possibly go wrong?

He scanned the dead guards, noticing that they all had bullet holes in their armor. They had been shot from the front. The likeliest perpetrators were either the previous occupants of the now-abandoned cells or an insider from within Beaker's Depot, a defector of some sort. Agent 3 and the captain must have broken out, somehow, or a friendly from behind enemy lines helped them. They weren't dead, were they? Please, not after he had come this far...

Marie approached the closer of the two open prison cells, taking note of any possible clues. Cole warily peered into the other one. Its steel door, left ajar, seemed undamaged. Whoever opened it did so without applying any extra force. The inside of the cell contained a bed, table, and stool. No personal effects or belongings were in sight. There were no bloodstains inside, either, at least. That was a good sign.

Caught up in their momentary assessments, the agents failed to notice one of the Octarians on the ground stirring. Raising his voice as much as he could, the Octarian croaked out a cry for help.

Both agents whirled around, guns drawn. Cole opened his shield.

“Hold on,” Marie cautioned, lowering her gun. “It's him.”

Cole closed his brella and squinted his eyes. The survivor, an older male Octoling, stammered out something that neither Cole nor Marie could understand, then coughed up blood. Cole winced. The three bullet holes in the man's button-down coat did not reflect kindly on his prognosis. He appeared to be unarmed, unlike the other bodies that were mostly still clutching their weapons. Marie pulled out her stolen access card again, examining the picture on it.

“It's him,” she gulped. “It's Cece's father, Dr. Elias.”

Cole's blood turned to ice. Everything really was going south. What could they even do for him at this point? He was certainly not long for the world.

“D-do we take him with us?” Cole stammered.

“No.” Marie's eyes remained fixated on the ID in her hand. “We're going down the next hallway to see if we can find anyone, then leaving the way we came.”

“We can't leave him like this,” Cole protested. “We promised Cece. We gotta do something.”

“No, we've gotta find Agent 3 and Gramps. We promised Cece that we wouldn't hurt her father, which we didn't. Let's move.”

Cole lowered his weapon and gave the dying researcher one last glance. Dr. Elias returned a pleading look. “S-sorry,” Cole whispered. Poor Dr. Elias. Poor Cece. She didn't deserve this. Even if this particular researcher had no good intentions, Cole knew that his passing would probably be devastating news. Cece might not take it well.

No time to think about that right now, though; he would have to save the guilt for later, when he was out of here.

Before he could press onward, however, Cole heard someone approach from behind.

“A real shame, ain't it?” a fourth voice prattled. “Getting civilians involved only ever resulted in more casualties.”

This was yet another unknown variable in the equation. Cole spun around, aiming his gun where he thought the voice came from. But before he could pinpoint anything, Cole received a kick to the stomach. He gasped for air, and his assailant wrestled the shotgun out of Cole's hands.

“Too slow, kiddo. You never woulda made it back in my day.”

Cole blinked twice. A tiny, bearded man was pointing Cole's own brella up at him, and with only one hand, at that. With his other hand, the old fellow was leaning on a bamboo cane. Cole met his gaze slowly and found two beady, sunken eyes topped with bushy white eyebrows. Those eyes stared right through him, having already sized Cole up. Everything about the little dude screamed fragility—knobby limbs, unkempt facial hair, even his grip on the brella looked shaky—but something about him conveyed unparalleled experience and poise. It had to be the military garb, Cole decided.

“Captain! Good to see you're okay,” Marie exclaimed. “We came to break you out of here.”

“Just you and this baby fish stick? How could you expect to get anything done with how scared he is?” the captain scoffed. “I thought you'd take your elders a little more seriously!”

“We weren't expecting, well...” Marie gestured to the bloodstained walls and floors of the hall. “And where's Agent 3?”

The captain handed Cole's gun back. “Beats me. I was taking myself a nice nap in there, and when I woke up, the door was open. The outside is a mess, and her cell next door is empty. Then I hear people coming down the hall. Thought I'd run into some trouble, but 'twas just you lot.”

“Agent 3 broke out on her own, then? How?” asked Marie incredulously.

“Beats me,” the old captain repeated with a shrug.

Cole stiffened. “She's still in here! She might need our help!”

The captain rolled his eyes. “Look, kiddo, do you even know who you're talking about? Agent 3 was probably out before you even stepped foot into this place. Let's focus on getting out of here ourselves, and that's an order. Agent 3 can take of herself just fine.”

“I'll lead the way,” Marie said. “Agent 4, cover my six.”

The elderly Inkling raised one bushy eyebrow. “Agent 4, huh? Let's see what you can do, new guy. Don't disappoint me.”

So _this_ was Captain Cuttlefish. Cole gritted his teeth and fought back an incoming headache. The night was still young, and he already hated the old coot's guts.

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**


	17. Chapter 17

“What could have happened to the two embracing? No matter how one loves, there are always different aims. Love can take a great many forms, whatever the era.”  
—Sunken Scrolls 2:6 (2.3)

 

**Twenty-four hours ago  
** **Beaker's Depot**

 

Callie could not sleep. She could not stop thinking about Natalie's eyes silently condemning her. Agent 3 must have recognized her, Callie thought. She must have known.

She tossed and turned in her bed, unable to find a comfortable position. The barracks at Beaker's Depot were a welcome change from the cots and sleeping bags of outdoor camps, but the depot itself freaked Callie out a little. Specifically, the research and development arm of the facility had some weird stuff going on, what with mechanical limbs, mind-altering drugs, and horrifying bio-weapons in the works.

Agent 3 and the captain had been successfully captured. Octavio had ordered them to be moved to the depot about a week ago, which was concerning. The only other prisoners at this place were test subjects, volunteers and criminals who could look forward to being experimented upon. The Octarians wouldn't do anything to Callie's former comrades, would they? Captain Cuttlefish was too old for that, and Natalie was an Inkling. It wouldn't make sense to perform any Octarian enhancements on Inklings, but Callie feared that Octavio had other plans for them that she wouldn't like.

Beaker's Depot was the first weapons development center that Callie and Octavio had gotten in contact with. Octavio was particularly eager to see what the Octarians still had at their disposal, and he wasn't disappointed. They had arrived only a day ago, greeted with a warm reception. The Octarians were happy to have their leader back safe and sound, even if they were still wary of Callie's presence. The scientists at the depot were taking Callie and Octavio on a short tour when Callie finally caught a glimpse of the prisoners, and she had immediately wanted to hide her face in shame. Although Callie had been disguised with an Octarian uniform and a set of black shades, she was still afraid of either of them recognizing her. They'd never forgive her.

Octavio had spent several minutes taunting his old enemies. He easily provoked anger in Captain Cuttlefish, poking fun at his rival's helplessness and age. They went at it for a good while, but thankfully the old seaman paid his granddaughter no heed. Callie prayed that he did not recognize her. But when Octavio tried to get a response out of Agent 3, the young girl refused to speak. Instead, the NSS's star agent directed all of her attention at Callie. Natalie walked up to the cell door and shot her former comrade a dirty look. There were hints of disappointment and anger in there, with a dash of heartbreak.

Perhaps it was just a hostile exchange from one Inkling to another, but somehow, Callie doubted it. She found herself unable return Natalie's glare. A half-second's glimpse was enough to imprint the captive agent's message in the former agent's mind. _I hate you_. Agent 3 must have recognized her, Callie thought. She must have known.

Compounding this unsettling notion was the fact that the NSS seemed to be active again. Callie had underestimated her cousin, as Marie was apparently getting a lot done. A cell of three Octoling agents went into Inkopolis to snag some much needed Zapfish, but they were stopped dead in their tracks. Literally. One of the Octoling agents was found blown up inside a gymnasium, while the other two had been shot down and kidnapped, in that order, according to a news station from Inkopolis. That had to have been Marie's handiwork. Not only that, a nearby lookout was recently decimated—the very same lookout where Agent 3 and the captain were being held just a week ago. If Marie was capable of storming a military outpost by herself, she had never shown it before, but Callie wouldn't put it past her. That, or Marie found help. The NSS did have a decently large network of contacts, after all.

Marie was potentially a huge threat, and Callie urged Octavio to take measures against the lone agent. But somehow, she could never get through to him. Octavio kept brushing her off and refusing to listen. He was more concerned about getting the Octarians to cooperate and build new weapons than he was about immediate obstacles. Sometimes, it seemed like Octavio cared more about the fact that his orders were being followed at all rather than the actual orders themselves.

Tomorrow, they would leave for Slimeskin Garrison and reestablish communications between Octo Canyon and the Valley. Callie suspected that Octavio just wanted to enjoy another welcoming party. She got up off her bed and began pacing about the darkened halls of Beaker's Depot. Callie was starting to doubt the strength of Octavio's convictions. How much did he care about his people, really? For all his sweet talk about life and liberty, Octavio acted like he barely gave a crap about the well-being of his subordinates. For all the work that they did, he berated them, never showed them any appreciation, and even struck them. Yet, he basked in their reverence and expected perfect obedience. Something about honor or piety or whatever. Octavio was so full of himself. It was no wonder why so many Octarians defected from his ranks. He was an awful boss to get stuck under if you were an average grunt. How was Callie supposed to support somebody like that?

The barracks and holding cells were on the same floor, and Callie soon found herself face to face with her former ally. Natalie's face was hidden by the darkness, but Callie could make out her silhouette. The girl behind bars cocked her head to the side, as if waiting for Callie to say something.

“And how am I supposed to hurt my own family?” Callie mused, mostly to herself. She looked into the cell next to Agent 3's, finding the captain fast asleep. That old man had no idea what real justice looked like, but he was still her grandfather.

In response, Natalie only crossed her arms. Callie narrowed her eyes at the imprisoned agent. Could the fearsome Agent 3 ever understand the troubles of an enemy nation? Could she ever sympathize with the downtrodden Octarians? Nah, probably not.

“Hate me all you want, but I'm the reason you're both still alive,” Callie asserted. “If it weren't for me, then Octavio would have had you buried at sea.”

She couldn't see her friend very clearly, but Callie could picture her rolling her eyes and turning around. Natalie did exactly that and backed away from the bars.

A wave of guilt washed over Callie. “Okay, okay, sorry, that wasn't very convincing,” she stammered. “I ruined everything. This is all my fault.”

Natalie stopped and turned back around.

Callie continued. “Look, after seeing how Octavio works, I don't want to know what he's planning for you and Gramps.” She pulled out a key ring. “But I will stick by him for now. He's convinced me of a better way, and I plan to put myself where I can make the biggest difference in the world.”

Callie slipped the keys through the bars and into the cell. They landed on the floor with a jingle. “I still owe you one, even if we're on different paths now. Please keep Gramps safe. Octavio has already left, and I'll be gone by morning, too.”

Natalie pocketed the keys and retreated into her cell, while Callie made a beeline for the nearest set of stairs. Time to move out. She didn't want to be seen breaking a prisoner out, and she certainly didn't want to be anywhere near a loose Agent 3. That kid tended to spill a lot of blood.

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**


	18. Chapter 18

“This is the only existing photograph of the legendary Squidbeak Splatoon. The young man folding his arms appears to be the leader. When the picture was taken, the Great War had been raging on for over a year.”  
—Sunken Scrolls 1:15 (3.6)

 

**Wednesday, 12:58 a.m.  
** **Cuttlefish Cabin**

 

“Whaddaya mean you don't know where Agent 1 went?” the captain demanded, folding his arms. “You live with her!”

Clouds filled the night sky. Marie shined her flashlight around, quietly searching for the right paper lantern. After a pause, she pulled on the correct one and placed her hand on the uncovered panel. As always, it flashed red, and the shack's wall folded inward. Then, the three present members of the New Squidbeak Splatoon descended down the concrete stairs.

“It's just as I said,” Marie answered with a sigh, removing her face mask. “She disappeared the same day you and Agent 3 departed for the Eastern Cape. I've been looking everywhere for her.”

Captain Cuttlefish nodded. “So you were working all by yourself this whole time!”

“Yes, Captain. At least, until I recruited Agent 4 here.”

At the bottom of the stairs, Cole punched the passcode into the heavy steel door and led everyone to the shack's main room. He, too, removed his face mask, then set his backpack, brella, and earpiece radio down on the couch. Once again, Cole was back at the shack, staying awake far longer than was healthy and discussing life-or-death matters into the wee hours of the morning. What an adventure this week was. He rubbed his eyes and went to the fridge to grab a pitcher of lemonade.

The captain kept talking. “Good on you, Marie. Better to look for help than to charge in alone.”

“I ran into Agent 4 while we were both looking for Natalie. At first, I suspected he was working for the police or something.”

Cole poured himself a glass of lemonade. “You never told me that part,” he said.

Marie laughed, dropping her bag on the floor. “Well, after I finally caught you and learned that you were her friend, I realized how wrong I was.”

The captain turned to Cole, eyeing the pitcher of lemonade. “Pour me one, too, kiddo.”

“Yes, sir.”

“That's _Yes, Cap'n_ to you.”

“Yes, _Cap'n_.”

Marie rolled her eyes.

“And while you're at it, tell me a bit about yourself,” the captain said, seating himself on the torn-up couch. “What are you good at?”

Cole blinked twice, caught off-guard. “Uh, what?”

“He's a good shot,” Marie chimed in. “And he's got instincts as sharp as Agent 3!”

The old man scoffed as Cole brought a glass of lemonade over to the couch. “I don't believe that for a second,” the captain said, taking the glass with both hands. “Agent 3 can get more done than both of you using just that piece of shit pistol. And no offense, kiddo, but you look too fresh to be a fighter.”

“You haven't seen him at work, Captain,” Marie insisted. “His shooting form is really good, and he's totally fearless. Cole was breaching doors and charging in with that shotgun, and we're talking about a new recruit here. He's only been Agent 4 for a couple days.”

“I'm just a guy from Razorback Falls looking for my missing neighbor,” said Cole sheepishly.

“So _you're_ Cole,” the captain noted with a nod. “Agent 3 has mentioned you plenty.”

Marie sat down in front of the computer and turned it on. “Speaking of whom,” she said, “Agent 3 is still out there, and we have no idea where she went.”

The captain took a sip of his drink and chuckled. “Actually, I have an inkling where that Inkling is.”

Marie turned around from the computer, and Cole's eyes lit up. The two agents were all ears.

“Just yesterday,” the captain began, “Octavio paid us a little visit at Beaker's Depot. Confessed to being behind our capture and all that. Said he wanted to finish what he started two years ago.”

“Octavio was at Beaker's Depot?” Marie asked, perplexed. “Why didn't you say so?”

“You missed him by a day. He was gone by the time you two showed up,” her boss responded. “Anyway, the idiot had the good grace to tell me and Agent 3 where he was headed. Apparently, he'll be in the town of Slimeskin for a few days, checking in with the local population and the garrison. That means he's gathering troops.”

“Wait, you're saying Nat is following him? By herself?” asked Cole.

The captain answered with a frown. “We would have heard from her by now, otherwise.”

“Sounds like something she'd do,” Marie said with a sigh. She crossed her arms. “Slimeskin is on the other end of Octo Canyon,” she pointed out. “It's a few hours away, but even if we can get there, we'd have no way of getting in.”

The captain finished his drink and chuckled again. “Wrong, Marie. You're looking at the man who's been conducting surveillance on border settlements for decades. It just so happens that I've learned a lot about the town of Slimeskin while sitting on my rumpus at HQ. I'll help you get in.”

This was excellent news, thought Cole. Everything was lined up in their favor; they had located both Octavio and Nat, they had a man with a plan, and they could kill two birds with one stone. However, at the thought of moving out to another operation, Cole became keenly aware of his physical exhaustion. The way back from Beaker's Depot had been a two-hour run—Sheldon had only provided one-way transportation this time—and Cole's legs were sore. He felt himself nodding off. His eyelids were so incredibly heavy right now, and keeping them open was a real struggle.

“You can sleep on the way, kiddo,” the boss said, jostling Cole awake. “Marie, give your boy Sheldon a call. It's an emergency.”

Cole yawned. How was this old fart so peppy and alert at this hour?

“Where are we going?” Marie asked, also yawning.

“Back to HQ. We have some equipment in the workshop that might come in handy.”

Cole groaned. He really needed some sleep.

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**


	19. Chapter 19

“When smoke rises from the seven rings, the pinkfish will emerge from the sea, devouring all the creatures of the land.”  
—Madai 10:10 (4.2)

 

**Wednesday, 8:04 a.m.  
** **Deep within Octarian territory**

 

From mountain roads to bustling city streets, from rolling hills to vast forests, the scenery outside changed drastically over the course of a six-hour car ride. Octo Valley wasn't exactly the safest place to drive through, nor was there anything out there that most people needed, but the Valley featured unusually craggy peaks set against a haunting coalescence of living and dead. Anyone with a basic appreciation for nature would have stopped to look at the beautifully terrifying sights.

Of course, neither Cole nor Marie paid attention to any of that. At two in the morning, when Sheldon had picked everyone up from the shack, the world outside was still dark. The agents had left the passenger seat to the captain, spending the entirety of the trip huddled in the cargo of Sheldon's truck. There were no windows or any other forms of visual stimulation to speak of, so the gentle hum of the engine had quickly lulled them both to sleep. They were still out cold by the time the truck arrived at the valley's drop-off point.

“Up and at 'em, kiddo!” Captain Cuttlefish shouted, giving Cole a hard _thwack_ with his cane. Sunlight streamed in through the open cargo door, compounding Cole's discomfort. After receiving another smack to the head, he reluctantly sat up. Cole was never one to sleep in, but he today he wanted nothing more than to lay down and pass out for a few more minutes.

“We there?” Cole asked, forcing his eyes open. They were on some kind of dirt road in the middle of the woods. And not sea-level, normal woods, Cole realized. They were at a higher elevation, if the types of trees around him were any indication.

“Sheldon, my boy,” the captain bellowed, ignoring Cole. “We'll need you again when we depart for Slimeskin Garrison. Thank you for coming at such an ungodly hour. You're a real soldier.”

The weapons designer saluted. “Thank you, Cap'n! I'm just glad to have you back.”

Marie got up behind Cole and collected their belongings, yawning all the while. The two agents groggily followed their leader up a winding path through the trees to a wide, concrete tunnel, a leftover piece of a long-lost civilization, no doubt. Something this large and out-of-the-way could not have been built by Inklings.

“Agent 2, take Cole to the workshop,” the captain ordered. “Grab whatever you think you'll need, and make sure you pick up the big laser cutter. You'll be using the Stingray to cut through some walls. Meet me downstairs when you're ready.”

“Yes, Captain,” Marie replied, still visibly trying to shake off sleep.

The agents continued down the concrete tunnel until they reached a set of double doors. A small, black panel, like the one outside the shack, hung on the wall next to them, and Marie tapped an ID card to it. The double doors slid open, revealing a brightly-lit, blue-grey hallway.

So this was what the NSS headquarters looked like. While the shack had been a nice base of operations, Cole had figured that it was a tad too improvident for a proper information-gathering organization. It was more of a safe house, really. This place, on the other hand, really looked the part. It was big, clean, and professional. He actually could imagine Marie and the captain working here.

The first room on their left was the workshop. Like the equipment room back under the shack, it was full of desks, hanging tools, and wall-mounted weapons, but more of them. In the back, various heavy-duty machines sat dormant. There was no wardrobe in the workshop, but several cabinet workbenches filled up the space.

Marie lifted what Cole figured was the Stingray off of a workbench. It was hollow metal rod welded to a red handle. A black tube connected the device to a heavy-looking tank.

“Is that a vacuum cleaner?” Cole asked doubtfully. Whatever it was, it looked even more unwieldy than Nat's weapon of choice.

Marie chuckled and placed the rod and tank on the ground next to the door. “Quite the opposite, actually,” she remarked. “It's a heavily modified pressure washer.”

Cole walked over to the weapon racks and examined the guns on offer. There were far more options to pick from than at the shack, though the selection here was not quite as robust as at Sheldon's store. He grabbed a submachine gun for himself, a sniper rifle for Marie, and two smaller pistols.

Marie raised an eyebrow. “Really? Don't you want to try anything bigger?”

“No.”

“There's an actual machine gun right there,” she said, pointing to a silver, six-barreled monstrosity of a weapon. “And those Blasters combine grenade launchers with Octarian cannon tech. You'll never get your hands on one of those ever again.”

Well, it wouldn't hurt to try something new, Cole thought to himself. Might as well indulge.

He deliberated for a moment before hefting the machine gun off the wall. The silver monstrosity's massive barrels looked like they could shoot down a plane—if the gun was any bigger, it would probably need to be mounted. A cylindrical box magazine fed a belt of rifle ammunition into the side of the gun, but Cole doubted that they would ever need that many rounds for anything. There looked to be _hundreds and hundreds_ of bullets in there. The weapon also lacked Sheldon's characteristic insignia—if the lustrous, metallic finish didn't already give it away, this wasn't one of Sheldon's thoughtful and calculated designs. This thing was bulky, vulgar, and unyielding. This was the gun of a tyrant.

He wondered how Nat chose her tools, especially when it came to firearms. Why would she only use handguns if this place was so well stocked? Was it because she was short and couldn’t physically carry larger guns? Or maybe she couldn’t handle the recoil? Maybe, Cole supposed, Nat wanted to challenge herself. She was always one who aimed for perfection, and she never stopped at just good enough. Nat valued mastery. Mere completion was too narrow a goal for her, too short-term. She believed in mastering her tools rather than selecting the right ones, which Cole respected but could never agree with. Simple matters of practicality and logic never stopped her in her quest to become the best. Perhaps that was why Nat stuck to her guns, literally and figuratively. If Marie and Captain Cuttlefish were to be believed, then Nat's skills were already honed to a fine edge.

The agents lugged their equipment into an elevator, which took them down one level. When it opened, Cole found himself inside a dark conference room. Two of the walls had blank whiteboards on them, while a third wall featured hand-drawn diagrams, newspaper clippings, and photographs pinned to it. A large table took up the center of the room. Captain Cuttlefish sat at the head of the table, and he slid a manila file folder toward the agents as they approached.

“We've got a map of Slimeskin Garrison and some info on the place in there,” the old man stated. “Tell me what you're thinking.”

Marie opened the folder and pulled out the map. After examining it, she gave the captain a quizzical look. “The west end of town is wide-open to attack. Is that even right?”

“Yup,” the old seaman said, meeting her steady gaze.

As Marie flipped through the rest of the folder, Cole took a look at the map. Slimeskin had three obvious entrances to the north, east, and south, but no roads from the west. Furthermore, the fort near the center of town had no western entrance. A single wall guarded the town against anything that might push in from the western front.

“Didn't you say the Octarians were supposed to be diligent and attentive?” asked Cole. “It looks like we can simply waltz right in here, cut a hole through the fort with our Stingray, and come out the other side. No one would see us.”

The captain gave Cole a hearty nod. “My thoughts, exactly, kiddo. You're sharper than you look, for a dropout.”

Cole gritted his teeth but said nothing. Nat must have told him about that.

Marie tapped Cole on the shoulder, bringing his attention to a personnel log. “The detail is similar to what we ran into yesterday,” she surmised. “Think you can handle a Round Two?”

According to the log, the equipment and staffing of the central fort were similar to those of Beaker's Depot, minus the multiple floors and researchers. Hopefully, the information would be correct this time. They had survived storming Beaker's Depot with bad intel, so a second run against these sorts of Octarian guards shouldn't be too tough, Cole figured.

“Yeah,” he responded, slapping his machine gun. “Our new friends should make things pretty easy.”

“Good,” the captain cut in. “Sheldon is waiting outside. I will stay here and contact you through your radios. Any last questions before you leave?”

Marie shook her head, and Cole did the same.

The captain gave them a double thumbs-up. “Now go get those Octojerks. I'm countin' on you buckos.”

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**


	20. Chapter 20

“The Terrifying Biology of the Inkling! Strength: Can leap up to five feet. Brain: Simple and predatory. Eyes: Can spot prey from 300 feet away.”  
—Sunken Scrolls 1:5 (2.2)

 

**Wednesday, 11:00 a.m.  
** **Octo Valley Outskirts**

 

Sheldon's black and lime-green box truck bumped along an unpaved road, determinedly chugging onward. To its left was a high peak, to its right a straight plunge back into Octo Valley. Against this backdrop of rocky crags and verdant forests, the truck's bright colors appeared dreadfully out of place. They were high up on a mountain now, and Cole wondered if anyone below looking up might see the truck with all of its colorful decals.

As Sheldon drove the agents closer to Slimeskin, Cole did his best to fight off sleepiness. He sat in the middle of the cab again, squeezed between his cohorts. He tried his best not to fall over backward between their seats or sideways onto either Sheldon or Marie, and the concentration required to stay upright was enough to keep him awake. Marie stared straight ahead, looking like she was focused on the road. Cole supposed that she was also quite tired.

Sheldon parked the truck at an overlook. “Slimeskin is over there, down that side of the mountain,” he said, pointing beyond the peak. “Good luck, agents.”

Cole exited the truck and went around to the back. He opened the cargo, clipped two smaller pistols on his belt, and lifted the silver machine gun out and slung its strap over his shoulder. Marie did the same with her sniper rifle. She also strapped the Stingray's red tank to her back and attached the handle to her belt. The agents then both hooked climbing ropes and harnesses to their getup, put face masks on, and slipped their earpiece radios in.

Marie clicked her radio on first. “Captain, we've arrived at the drop-off point,” she spoke into her transmitter. “Preparing to move.”

“Bring her back,” came Captain Cuttlefish's voice.

They made their way across the overlook and began descending down the other side of the mountain. Below them was the tail end of Octo Canyon and the town of Slimeskin, surrounded by alpine slopes and sheer cliff faces. It was a beautiful view. The town seemed so idyllic and peaceful, cut off from the rest of the world. From where Cole stood, it hardly looked like a terrorist stronghold—Slimeskin was just a collection of little yellow roofs in a vast gorge of frosty greens and browns.

Cole still wasn't sure what to make of the whole Octarian deal. He had believed their entire species a myth until just a few days ago. As it turned out, Octarians were not monsters. They were an intelligent, discerning people, complete with their own language and society. How did they manage to completely disappear from the public eye in the one-hundred years since the Great War? Did anyone else in Inkopolis know about them?

The half-hour hike down to Slimeskin ended with the sun just above the agents' heads. True to the captain's word, the west end of town was nothing more than a wall. Slimeskin's main fort was built right next to a 150-foot cliff, atop which the agents now stood. If the Slimeskin Garrison had a watch, it was either off-duty or not doing its job, because it let the agents rappel down the cliff face and land at the base of the fort without consequence.

Once on the ground, Marie unhooked the Stingray from her belt. Pointing the metal tube at the steel wall in front of her, she stiffened her posture and squeezed the handle with both hands. For several seconds, nothing happened. Cole opened his mouth to say something when the end of the tube suddenly burst into life. A thin beam of white-hot light shot forth, nearly blinding him. The pulsating laser bore into the fortress wall. Dust and sparks shot forth from wherever laser hit steel. The tank on Marie's back also began humming and shaking. It vibrated with an intensity that looked rather unsafe.

Marie held the wobbling Stingray steady as she carved into the fort, using the beam to draw a large circle on the wall. As she completed her cut, she looked back at Cole and nodded. He unslung his machine gun and revved up the barrels, aiming straight into the fort. If anyone was coming to greet them, it would probably be now.

The wall fell inwards. Cole stepped in first and scanned the big room they had breached, gun at the ready. The room looked like a wide, dimly lit office, with metal walls and no windows. Portions of the walls and ceiling were melted, marking where the Stingray had pierced through the fort wall and hit the other side. A single desk was pushed against the right wall, but the room was otherwise unoccupied. An open door on the wall opposite Cole led into a dark hallway.

“All clear,” Cole whispered into his earpiece. “Moving into the hall.”

Behind him, Marie swapped the Stingray for her sniper rifle. Cole pushed out of the room, his machine gun still spinning. The hallway was empty, however. He turned right, and upon seeing nothing he turned left. Still nothing. Cole felt an uncomfortable sinking feeling and stopped his gun. As the electric whirring wound down, the dark hallway fell silent.

Behind him, Marie also stopped.

“All clear, apparently,” Cole drawled, slowly. “Just like at the depot.”

“I hear something to the left,” said Marie.

“Go?”

“Yes. Lead the way.”

Cole went down the hall and turned a corner. Three dead Octarian guards lay on the ground. The agents broke into a run, turning another left and then a right. Each turn greeted them with more dead Octarians and more magenta-stained walls. The sound of occasional gunfire, now audible and distinct, accompanied their hurried footsteps.

Natalie was close by.

The trail of bodies led Cole and Marie outside into a large inner courtyard. The space was a square about twice the size of the office they had entered from, steel walls on all four sides. Neatly trimmed hedges and fresh soil indicated that the courtyard was probably a garden, but most of the plants seemed to have been trampled in the last several minutes.

Standing in the middle of the courtyard was a huge, hulking Octoling. Cole guessed that this beast of a man was at least twenty feet tall. He wore his hair in a ponytail and covered his torso with some kind of leather armor. His bare arms were made of pure, rippling muscles, and a disproportionately small head sat between shoulders so big that they seemed to swallow up the man's neck. With both of his thick, meaty hands, the giant Octoling grasped a makeshift warhammer, a motorbike engine stuck to the hilt of a samurai sword. He swung it straight down at a comparatively tiny Inkling in front of him, as if to chop her in half.

“What _is_ that?!” quavered Cole, revving his machine gun back up and pointing it directly at the monstrous Octarian.

Up ahead, the tiny Inkling sidestepped the big samurai's chop, and the ground seemed to quake. From above, a bullet whizzed down toward the Inkling—perhaps from an unseen fort guard—and she dodged that, as well. With a twirl, she pointed her rifle at the big samurai and fired several rounds. The Octo Samurai roared in pain as bullets pierced his right hand. He dropped his hammer, clutching his injured hand with his left.

“Agent 3!” Marie yelled, taking aim at the Octo Samurai's head. “Above you!”

Natalie was already diving backward. Two more bullets impacted the ground where she had just been. After landing with a roll, she twirled around to face the sky and fired several times up toward the fort using her assault rifle. Marie took two shots at the reeling Octo Samurai, missing the first and landing the second in his chest.

The samurai recoiled but got back to his feet, muscles tensing. He turned to meet his new opponents and, with speed and agility far beyond what his appearance suggested, hurled his hammer at them. Marie dove out of the way.

Cole, however, was a second slower. He managed to throw himself to the side in the nick of time, avoiding harm, but he dropped his still-revving gun in the process. The flying warhammer smashed into the heavy, silver firearm and careened off to the side. Cole struggled back to his feet as quickly as he could and pulled out one of his pistols. He and Marie were now on separate sides of the courtyard, and she was running along the outer edge, taking shots at the Octo Samurai.

The monster didn't even flinch. Marie was missing all of her shots.

Cole backed up, ready to take a shot of his own when he bumped into Natalie. He whirled around to face her, surprised, but she simply held her assault rifle out with one hand, as if to hand it to him.

“Quick, trade me,” she said, reaching for Cole's pistol.

He had no idea how to respond. Did Nat not recognize him? He was wearing a face mask, after all. Oh, she wanted to trade guns, probably. Cole looked at the long, black and purple firearm in her hand, but couldn't discern its make. Probably Octarian tech. Was that a black eye on her face? Nat had a black eye.

Natalie plucked the pistol out of his hand, not waiting for an answer. She unceremoniously dumped the assault rifle into his arms—perhaps it was a little too big for her—and snatched the second pistol from Cole's belt. Then she was gone.

Cole blinked, confused by the rapid-fire exchange that just took place. He looked back at Marie. To his horror, Cole saw the Octo Samurai barreling toward her as she dropped a magazine on the floor. Marie was out of ammo and stumbling due to her exhaustion. Cole himself fumbled with the rifle in his arms, desperately trying to find the grip.

When Cole finally got his assault rifle pointed at the giant monster, Natalie was already on him. She was literally on top of the freak, having leapt more than ten feet onto his back. With one hand, Natalie had the Octo Samurai's ponytail wrapped around her fingers like a climbing rope. She steadied herself by pulling on it, her tiny feet planted into samurai's shoulder blades. The beast of a man roared and flailed his arms, unable to reach behind himself. With her other hand, Natalie held one of the pistols. She pointed it at the Octo Samurai's head and emptied the entire clip. Then, she jumped off.

The samurai's forward momentum kept his body tumbling until it crashed into a wall. Natalie, now on the ground again, sidestepped another bullet from above. She looked up and shot twice at her last attacker using the other pistol. No more bullets came down, and she relaxed her stance.

“Thanks, Agent 3,” exclaimed Marie, dusting herself off. “I can't believe we finally found you.”

Natalie turned around and grinned. “Howdy, Agent 2,” she said.

Marie sighed, smiling, and slung her rifle back over her shoulder. She walked up to the smaller agent and examined Natalie from head to toe. Then, Marie said, “We're getting you back to HQ. Let's go.”

“No, wait,” Natalie protested, rather weakly. “Octavio just left town.”

“Agent 3, there are cuts and gashes all over your body. Were you hit anywhere? And your eye—you need medical attention, pronto.”

“I'm fine,” Natalie drawled as she promptly crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

“Nat!” Cole yelled, running over to his friend.

Marie took a deep breath in through her nose. She wordlessly began leading the way back, rifle drawn and loaded. Cole dropped the Octarian rifle on the ground and picked Natalie up. Nat had always been a small person, but she felt way too light in his arms right now. This kid _did_ need medical attention.

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**


	21. Chapter 21

“Paradise Lost by Octolangelo.”  
—Sunken Scrolls 1:8 (2.5)

 

**One minute ago  
** **Octo Canyon**

 

“We _have_ to stop Agent 3.”

Octavio's voice broke the silence of the ride. As two Octotroopers piloted a four-by-four away from Slimeskin, their leader and his right-hand woman sat in the back. Four other vehicles accompanied their departure: three other off-roaders behind and an armored car in front.

Callie stared out the window. “What do you mean?” she asked, more to humor him than to actually listen.

“Now that Agent 3 has escaped, she will chase me to the _ends of the earth_ ,” Octavio croaked. “She is after my life. If we do not stop her, then I will forever be on the run.”

Callie continued staring out the window. Was that genuine _fear_ in Octavio's voice?

The Octarian leader crossed his arms. “We have to kill her,” he concluded.

“Do you have a plan?”

“I do, and it's _perfect_.”

Callie turned to face the narcissistic Great War veteran. Octavio was smiling. He was never one for modesty, but he had also never described any of his machinations as perfect before. That meant that he was thinking of something absolutely brilliant or something really dumb.

“Let's hear it,” she said, adjusting her shades.

“We set up a hostage exchange. Agent 3's life for however many Inkopolis citizens we can round up.”

Something really dumb it was, then, Callie thought to herself.

Octavio continued. “We will do it somewhere public, somewhere the hero wouldn't dare back down. We can contact the news stations in the city and have them cover the exchange.”

“I don't think—”

“We will do it in the old Plaza. It will be a good stage for this. Inkopolis can watch as their hero either dies to me on live television or publicly disgraces herself, forever a _coward_ and weakling.”

Outside of the four-wheel drive, the Canyon whizzed past. Did this guy understand the enemy at all? Was he unaware of the fact that the NSS operated in secret and that _nobody knew who Agent 3 was_? Callie rubbed her temples in frustration. She must have told him so at least twice today. Never mind that, Octavio's plan was completely insane. Callie tried to think of ways to tell him so.

“Sir, that's really not—”

“Of course, I will go in person. I am not a coward. I will personally oversee the entire operation.”

“How do you plan on getting back out?” she prodded, finally able to get a word in. “Let's just say everything works out and you shoot Agent 3 dead in the middle of Inkopolis Plaza. The city is not going to let you walk away.”

“Please, I won't be going alone,” Octavio scoffed. “I'll have my honor guard with me, and Octosnipers to watch the rooftops. And I'll have you. They can't possibly stop us.”

Callie exhaled sharply. “Okay, what if Agent 3 doesn't show?”

“Oh, she _will_. She is no coward.”

“What if she gets hit by a train in a freak accident and dies? What if she can't show up?”

“Then we _kill_ all the hostages and take our leave.”

“What?!”

“We'll give her a reasonable amount of time,” the old veteran stated. “We'll announce our deal and wait one hour—enough time for a hurried individual to show herself but not enough time for law enforcement to mobilize.”

Callie could not believe the sheer amount of stupid that was coming from his mouth. Was Octavio trying to get himself killed? A public hostage exchange of all things! He seriously believed that this was a good plan, which frightened her.

“Sir, with all due respect, this is the worst idea you have had, yet. You can't just murder hostages.”

“And why not?”

Callie sighed. This guy could not take a hint. Whatever Octavio wanted to do, Octavio would do—there was no talking him out of his own ideas. His behavior confirmed Callie's suspicion that the warmonger had gone senile. He had no respect for life anymore, no direction or greater purpose. He was willing to kill innocent civilians. He lacked the foresight to understand why he was jeopardizing everything in his little pursuit of honor. All he cared about was his reputation.

Octavio was ruled by delusions of grandeur. The Octarian people needed better than this. They deserved better than this. They deserved a leader who kept the bigger picture in mind and understood basic individual rights, someone who put the needs of the people first. A leader should work to serve the people, not his vanity. Especially not in the face of a possible civil war.

Callie nodded to herself. She had seen enough of the old man's ways. She was tired of his antics, his inconsistencies, and his empty words. She would stop Octavio, save the Octarian people from his lunacy, and work on the real problems at hand.

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**


	22. Chapter 22

“These two cousins from Calamari County won Inkopolis's first annual Youth Folk-Singing Contest. Their remarkable voices earned them a standing ovation from all present and catapulted them into the spotlight!”  
—Sunken Scrolls 1:17 (4.2)

 

**Wednesday, 3:25 p.m.  
** **Octo Valley outskirts**

 

In the back of Sheldon's truck sat Cole, still clad in black. His whole body hurt. In his lap, he cradled Natalie's head. She was out cold. He had carried her through the fortress, back up the mountain, and into the truck. Natalie had been unconscious for more than two hours, now, and Cole was starting to worry.

Sheldon, their ever-dutiful chauffeur, had set the agents on a course back to the city. They decided that Natalie needed immediate medical care, so they changed their destination from the NSS headquarters to Inkopolis. Inkopolis, however, was still a few hours away, so Natalie would have to hang on for a little while longer.

“Stop worrying, kiddo,” Captain Cuttlefish chided through the radio. “She's tougher than you.”

At least she's breathing normally, thought Cole. Poor Nat. She had to go through way too much in the last month. Getting kidnapped, being shipped around, then breaking out and traversing most of Octo Canyon by foot—Cole couldn't even imagine physically doing any of that. He had known Nat forever, but her display of sheer fortitude here surprised him. She was tough.

She was also an NSS operative, of course. Nat had kept her Agent 3 schtick a secret from everyone back home. While the fact itself was nothing new, it suddenly came to the forefront. With Nat in tow, Cole could now stop focusing on trying to find Nat and instead start thinking of questions he wanted to ask her. Why did she pick such a dangerous job? Why didn't she tell anyone about it? What other secrets might she have, he wondered? Nat had been his best friend for ten years, but Cole felt like he didn't actually know Nat at all anymore. Part of him hoped that she would wake up so they could talk. Another part of him didn't know how to start the conversation.

Cole looked down at his friend's bruised and battered body. Nat seemed so small, laying in his lap. It was a miracle that she hadn't gotten shot. It was a miracle that she was alive at all, really. On the outside, she had not changed since he last saw her—her straight, orange hair was still long and loose, her round face was exactly as Cole remembered it, except for the black eye, and she was still short, standing at five foot two and a half inches on a good day. If Nat had grown at all, then she had done so mentally and not physically. The only visual give-away that anything was different was her dirty safety jacket. Cole had seen similar jackets in the wardrobe under Marie's shack, and they looked nothing like the graphic tees that Nat used to wear. The black jacket was a form-fitting long sleeve with a large, baggy collar. Over the jacket, Nat wore a neon yellow safety vest trimmed with reflective tape. Parts of the tape had tears in them, and the bottom of the safety vest was frayed and falling apart.

Come to think of it, Nat had been wearing this jacket for a month straight. Since her trip with Captain Cuttlefish, Nat had not had a chance to change her clothes. Or bathe. That probably explained the funky smell coming from her—talk about poor hygiene.

Cole took one last look at his friend's sleeping figure before leaning back and falling asleep himself.

The rest of the day was a blur. Cole remembered seeing the cargo door open and people coming in. He remembered Marie talking to them from outside the truck. She had dragged him out as white-clad workers surrounded Nat. He saw Nat strapped to a spinal board and then moved onto a stretcher. Nurses took her vitals and wheeled the stretcher into a building. They were at Teuthida General Hospital, Cole realized. This was the last hospital he had visited.

“What the heck happened to this kid?” one triage nurse said, wrinkling his brow. “She hasn't eaten or drunk anything in _days_.”

“You should have called an ambulance,” another nurse added.

He sleepily nodded at them. That was the last thing Cole remembered doing before blacking out again.

Then, somebody jostled him awake. He was sitting in the hospital waiting room. His neck was sore. A clock on the wall in front of him read 8:59 p.m. To his left, Sheldon was saying something about Nat and shaking Cole's shoulder. To his right, Marie was yawning.

He got up and followed his friends down a brightly-lit hallway. An Inkling in a white uniform led them into a well-furnished room. A brown, tiled floor and wood grain-patterned wallpaper gave the room a homey feel, which contrasted heavily with the grey faux-leather armchairs, IV pole, and tilted hospital bed inside it. Despite its earthy tones, the room felt sterile and unnaturally clean.

On the bed sat Natalie, now clad in a hospital gown.

She smiled—a thankful, almost sheepish smile—at the four figures standing in the doorway. Her eyes landed on each visitor, first the nurse, then Sheldon, then Marie, before meeting Cole's own. Natalie squinted at him and did a double take. She widened her eyes in shock, mouth agape for just a split second, before settling on a cocky grin.

Cole smiled back. He had missed her expressive personality.

Natalie tilted her head to the side. “Hi,” she started, giving everyone a small wave without lifting her arm. Cole could have sworn that he saw her bruised eye twitch.

“How are you feeling?” asked Marie.

“I'm fine,” Natalie drawled in response. “Got me some stitches in my arms and my head kinda hurts, but otherwise good!”

“Good to hear,” Marie said as the nurse exited the room. Sheldon walked over to the IV pole and began examining the various tubes connected to Natalie's arms and back in earnest.

Natalie waited for few seconds after the nurse disappeared. She shot Cole a sidelong glance before asking Marie, “What's the sitrep?”

“Found you, you're recovering,” Marie responded. “Captain's at HQ. We extracted him from Beaker's Depot yesterday. He's as fine as always.”

“Thank goodness.”

“This is Cole Leoidea,” Marie said, putting a hand on Cole's shoulder. “He's here. I believe you're already acquainted?”

Natalie laughed and nodded.

“Octavio is at large. The Great Zapfish is at large. Agent 1 has been missing for five weeks.”

Natalie's face darkened. “Agent 1 broke me out,” she mumbled.

Marie gasped. “What?”

“Agent 1 broke Octavio out, too. I think she defected.”

“How do you know?”

Natalie looked into her lap, avoiding eye contact with Marie. “I saw her with Octavio at Beaker's Depot. She said something about changing the world, something about Octavio convincing her of a better way. Then she unlocked my prison cell in the middle of the night and disappeared.”

That explained how Nat escaped the depot by herself, Cole figured.

Marie sat down in one of the grey armchairs and propped her head in her hands. “Where is she now?” she wondered aloud.

Natalie began picking at the tube in her wrist. “She was at Slimeskin today, with Octavio, but they got away. I don't know where they're going next.”

Marie nodded, staring ahead with a blank look. “And why?” she whispered, visibly perplexed.

“That's all I got,” Natalie finished, shaking her head.

Cole was still standing near the foot of the bed. He began shifting in place, unsure of what to say or who to look at. He turned to Sheldon, who was now examining Nat's drip chamber with his hands behind his back. That guy seemed totally absorbed in his observations, lost in his own world. What did Sheldon see in that hospital equipment? Did he have some new idea brewing in his head?

Natalie turned to look at Cole and raised one eyebrow. “How'd _you_ get here?” she challenged, interrupting his train of thought.

Cole raised an eyebrow himself, uncrossing legs that he didn't remember crossing. “I came to find you.”

“Mom and Pop send you?”

“Yeah, after you stopped answering the phone. Then I learned you was doing all this secret agent stuff.”

Natalie collapsed onto her bed with a huff. “I guess the jig is up, then, huh,” she grunted, staring into the ceiling. “You told everyone yet?”

“No.”

“No?” she said, surprised. She craned her neck to face Cole. He stared back at her, and Natalie's face lit up. “Wait a minute, was that _you_ at Slimeskin?”

“Yeah.”

“That _was_ you! You're working for the NSS too?”

Cole bit his lip but maintained eye contact. “Kinda, yeah,” he answered through his teeth.

“So then you're Agent 4, now!”

“Yeah.”

“That's so cool!” she exclaimed. Natalie sat up again, looking back and forth between a seated Marie and a standing Cole. “How'd _that_ happen?” Natalie asked.

“She found me, I guess,” Cole began, scratching his head. He glanced at Marie, who was still staring at the wall with her head in her hands. “We been searchin' for you and Agent 1 together.”

“You _stormed a fort_ to find me?”

“Yeah.”

“Ain't that the sweetest thing!” Natalie gushed. She shook her head and laughed to herself. “Cole, this is crazy!”

He nodded and smiled—crazy was certainly one word for it. As exhausted as he was, hearing Nat talk and laugh made everything worth it.

“All right, you two catch up,” Marie cut in, standing back up. “I'm going to call the captain, and I need to apologize to Cece.”

Marie motioned for Sheldon to follow, then went for the door. As they left the room, Natalie shot Cole an inquisitive look. “What happened to Cece?” she asked.

Uh oh. “You know her?” Cole stalled, taking a seat next to Natalie on the bed.

“The freakishly tall Octoling spy who drops us intel at Tentakeel Outpost? Yeah, she's cool.”

Cole remembered Dr. Elias and winced. He tried to imagine Nat gunning down an unarmed scientist, but he could not. Nat hadn't become a crazed killer, had she?

“Cece told us where to go find you,” he said, after a pause.

“No way! When Cap'n Cuttlefish got kidnapped two years ago, Cece helped me find him, too.”

“Her father worked at Beaker's Depot. One of the researchers. He got caught in the crossfire while we was there and didn't make it,” Cole lied.

Well, that wasn't a total lie. Cole wanted to gauge Nat's reaction to the sorry news. He wanted to know whether she had killed the Octarian researcher intentionally.

Natalie recoiled in horror. “Oh, no,” she gasped, hand over her mouth. Her sadness seemed genuine enough.

He pressed further. “Yeah. Sometimes, civilians get involved and there are more casualties.”

“Cole!” Natalie cringed in fear. “That's an _awful_ thing to say! That's so insensitive! You wasn't the one who did it, was you?”

Great. Now she thought that he was the crazed killer.

“No... it was you, Nat.”

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**


	23. Chapter 23

“These must be photographs taken by some young-adult Inklings. Are these so-called Tweenklings trying to convince their peers that their lives are exciting and full of meaning? Or are they trying to convince themselves?”  
—Sunken Scrolls 2:12 (3.3)

 

**Wednesday, 9:13 p.m.  
** **Teuthida General Hospital**

 

Natalie stared at him with a confused look on her face. Her emotions seemed to cycle between surprise, anger, and disbelief as she put all the pieces together in her head. She settled on a sad mixture of guilt and disgust and turned away from Cole.

He wanted to take that back. What a horrible thing to say! Couldn't he have thought of _anything else_?

“...You sure it was me?” Natalie asked in a small voice.

No going back now. “Yeah,” Cole answered. “We found him right outside your cell.”

“...I killed her father?”

“I-I'm sure it was an accident.”

Natalie closed her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair. She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't quite form any words.

“I'm sorry,” Cole apologized. “I didn't mean to—”

“...No, it's fine,” Natalie said, exhaling. “I needed to know.”

Cole had nothing to say. He felt like an idiot.

“...Thanks for telling me,” she finished.

The two of them sat on the bed in silence. Nat looked really upset. Someone this disturbed by killing an unarmed civilian, and an _Octarian_ , at that, would not have done so on purpose. Nat had a lot more heart than Cole gave her credit for. She wasn't some crazed killer, after all, and Cole felt kind of ridiculous for suspecting as such. He wanted to hold her close and reassure her that everything was going to be okay, but she probably didn't need that right now. He owed Nat the time and space to come to terms with everything on her own. That, and he'd probably injure her further—those were stitches in her arms.

“So you're Agent 4, huh?” Natalie finally said.

“Yeah.”

“...Y-you tried out any of Sheldon's guns yet?”

“Yeah! They're awesome!”

Her smile returned. “Thought you might say that! His designs are right up your alley. We're lucky to have a guy like him on our side.”

“And yet you keep using nothing but handguns.”

“Pistols,” she corrected.

“Yeah, yeah. You haven't changed much, Miss Tilus. Except you smell worse.”

Natalie reached over and punched his shoulder. “Not my fault!” she protested. “Not like I chose to be locked up!”

“You disappearing musta been pretty bad for your Turf War team, too, right?” Cole asked. “How are they gonna compete without their _star operative_?”

Natalie frowned at him. She tilted her head one way, opened her mouth, and tilted her head the other way. She closed her mouth and simply looked at Cole.

“What's wrong, Nat?”

“Guess I'll just tell you now, but I don't play Turf War.”

“When'd you quit?”

“I never made it into the League. I wasn't good enough.”

“Wait, how?”

“Don't tell anyone!” Natalie insisted. “I'm sorry I lied. I wanted to compete, I really did, but I didn't qualify. Psyched myself out during tryouts and _failed_. Not a single team wanted me.”

“Why don't you just try again?”

“Cap'n Cuttlefish found me after those first few weeks, said he saw promise in me. He thought I could do a whole lotta good for the city by working with the NSS.”

“And you agreed.”

“Cole, I was a _failure_ ,” Natalie explained, furrowing her brow. “I didn't know what to do with myself. I didn't know how I was gonna face my parents. Didn't know how I was gonna face you. Joining the NSS was a win-win for me—I could become a hero or die trying. Either woulda been fine.”

Cole shook his head. “Nat, one of those _ain't fine at all_.”

“Relax, I don't plan on dying anymore. I'm good at this. The NSS pays me lots, and nobody is gonna replace me anytime soon.”

“You seriously thought that Mom and Pop was gonna be mad you wasn't playing Turf War?”

“...I don't wanna disappoint y'all.”

“You seriously thought that _I of all people_ was gonna be disappointed you wasn't playing Turf War?”

Natalie remained quiet.

“Nat, I ain't so good with words,” Cole admitted. “But you was always my hero. You're the smartest person I know. You're the best shot in the Falls, too. Bet you're even better now. And you had the guts to move to a brand new city all by yourself. That's something else.”

Natalie sighed. “That's a lot to live up to, Cole,” she lamented.

“No, that's not what I meant!” Cole spluttered, hitting himself in the forehead. “I meant that I don't care if you don't make tryouts! I don't care what you fail! I don't give a damn how bad you mess everything up, because you're always gonna be my best friend.”

She stared directly at him, and Cole stared right back.

“Nat, I'm just happy you're alive,” he finished, voice cracking. “I missed you.”

Natalie scooted over to where Cole was sitting, dragging her IV lines along for the ride. Then, she leaned her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

Cole gently wrapped his arm around her and let time stand still for a while.

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**


	24. Chapter 24

“Hey, squidkids! It's me Callie! It's been so long since I've written a proper blog post! <:三 <:三 Being on my own like this, I've got time to think, but sometimes I think too much! (>_<;) But I'm really psyched for filming today! Stay fresh! (`ω´)”  
—Sunken Scrolls 2:22 (5.1)

 

**Thursday, 5:31 a.m.  
** **Inkopolis**

 

 _9:47 p.m.  
_ _Cole:_ they found nat she got lost while hiking  
 _Cole:_ she got some stitches but shes ok  
 _Mom:_ Thank goodness, I will let her parents know  
 _Mom:_ Are you coming home soon?  
 _Cole:_ yeah  
 _Mom:_ When?

 _5:18 a.m.  
_ _Cole:_ i dont know yet

 

Twenty minutes after the crack of dawn, Cole checked out of the New Albacore Hotel. It was posh establishment spanning multiple floors, located right across the street from Teuthida General—Marie had checked them into two rooms last night on NSS credit. Cole wondered how Marie was doing. She was probably still asleep, given how tired she had seemed. The news of Callie's betrayal must have been rough on her, too.

Cole had a busy schedule today. First, he needed to stop by a police station and call off the search for Natalie. She was no longer a missing person, after all. The nearest station was, thankfully, only a couple of blocks down from the hotel.

Then, he would meet with Marie to discuss their next steps. She had told Cole to expect a call before noon, which gave him some time to think. He had many things to consider: the fact that Natalie came back, how to best approach the Callie situation, his family… Cole would think about it more after finishing his first task. One thing at a time.

After that, he needed to call his family. Although Cole had kept in touch with them through text messages, he had so many missed calls from his mother. Cole didn't know how to explain himself just yet, and everyone back home was probably getting very confused. Or worried. Or both. He owed them all a call.

Finally, he promised Natalie that he would go visit her in the evening. She had asked him to bring her a “Super Seanwich” from a food truck in Inkopolis Square called the Crust Bucket. Look for a black and yellow truck run by a tall tiger prawn, Nat told him. That was the good stuff.

“The destination is on your right,” Cole's phone chirped. He looked up and saw the police station ahead, then pocketed his phone before entering. The inside looked much like the Razorback Falls Police Department, with its black-and-white checkered tile floor, cluttered desks, and crisscrossing walls sectioning off individual offices. The front desk was currently occupied—a woman wearing a brown trench coat relayed information to the officer on duty, and he was jotting things down on a notepad.

“I heard them talking in the street this morning,” the young woman said. “They were going over their plans to steal Zapfish and make a stand at the Plaza today. I heard them mention taking hostages, too—they sounded like terrorists!”

Cole's ears perked up.

The officer continued writing as he asked, “Where did you see them, Miss?”

“I was on 20th Street, but I didn't actually see them. I was too scared,” she answered. “So I ran all the way here.”

Cole examined the woman. From behind, he couldn't see much besides her long, jet-black hair. It was tied in a fancy, bow-like shape, with the ends hanging down. The ends were adorned with hot pink highlights, the same color as Octarian blood.

“You understand how serious a report of this nature is, right, Miss? Especially after the incident in The Reef the other day?”

“Yes, officer. I'm telling the truth.”

Cole couldn't shake the feeling that he had seen her before. That hair, especially, was in such a distinct style. Who in this city had long, black, bow-like hair with magenta highlights?

The officer at the front desk stopped writing and picked up his notepad. “So, these guys mentioned Moray Towers, the Musselforge Fitness Club in the Square, and Inkopolis Plaza, right?” he clarified.

“Yes, officer.”

“Thank you for the report. We will look into these places and take action as soon as possible.”

“Thanks, officer.”

The woman turned around to leave. Cole recognized her immediately, even with her sunglasses on, as one of Nat's favorite pop stars. It was Callie, the other Squid Sister, and the rogue Agent 1. He froze in place. She walked around him, acknowledging his presence with a nod, and exited the police station. Cole pulled out his phone and called Marie.

“What?” she answered after four rings. Cole winced at the tone of her voice. He hadn't meant to wake her up, but this was important. Outside, he saw Callie walking away at a brisk pace.

“I spotted Agent 1 at the police station and now I'm following her,” he said. “What do I do?”

“Distract her. I'll be right there.”

Marie hung up, and Cole bolted down the street, catching up with Callie as she stopped to face him.

“Hey,” Cole panted. “You're, uh, one of the Squid Sisters, right?”

“Yup!”

“Can I, uh, take a picture with you?” he asked, holding up his phone.

“Sure.”

“Thanks!” he exclaimed, doing his best to feign excitement. He handed his phone over to Callie, who held it out at arm's length. She leaned back, putting her face next to Cole's shoulder, and snapped a few selfies. Then she returned the phone with a smile.

Cole tried to think of something to distract her further. “Wait, can you sign it, too?” he blurted out.

Callie chuckled, then pulled out a marker from her coat pocket and signed the back of Cole's phone with a flourish.

“There ya go!”

“Thanks, uh, Callie,” he stammered.

“No problem.”

“...Say, I heard you was talking about, uh, terrorists. In the police station. What was that about?”

She lowered her shades, looking up at him with yellow, star-shaped pupils, and he sized her up. Callie was roughly Marie's height, meaning that Cole stood four or five inches taller. If her build was anything like Marie's, then he also had a good 30 kilos on her, so the ball was in his court if it ever came down to a contest of sheer strength. However, the graceful manner with which Callie carried herself frightened him. Her standing posture was impeccable—uncanny, even—and suggested a level of bodily awareness far beyond the usual. Even as she stood relaxed, looking up toward him, Cole could tell that she positioned each of her limbs with purpose and tensed only what muscles needed to be tensed. People who moved like that were either dancers or martial artists. Callie was probably both, meaning she could probably kick his ass with her eyes closed.

“Look, big guy, what you heard me say in there was all real. Scary stuff. Stay alert and stay home today.”

With that, Callie sauntered off, and Cole watched her go. She headed straight for a while, then suddenly slipped into a side alley. He followed her.

The alleyway sat between two brick walls, spanning about six of Cole's shoulder widths. It was narrow but short, a well-hidden shortcut between parallel streets. The place would have looked a lot creepier at night or if it was a bit longer. Callie stood still, smack-dab in the middle of it all. There was no way she didn't notice him, Cole thought. He had never been a sneaky guy.

“Okay, kiddo,” Callie started, turning around to face him. “Stop following me. I'm sure we're both busy people with places to be and things to do. If you—”

Sheldon's truck pulled up on the other end of the alleyway. Callie noticed it and flinched in recognition. The black and green truck was blocking her way forward, and her only way out of the alley was back, past Cole.

She began walking at him. “I knew something was up with you,” she said, taking her shades off and stowing them in her trench coat. She raised her hands to her chin, put her elbows down, and tilted her back foot a bit. She was squaring up a boxing stance. “Now you leave me no choice.”

Cole tried to make himself look big. He just had to stall until Marie came out, keep Callie busy for a few seconds at most.

Taking a step with her front foot, Callie led in with a blisteringly fast backfist straight to the face, then followed up with a left hook—a one-two combo meant to knock someone out quickly. Cole's hands shot to the top of his head. He used his raised forearms to deflect the first punch away from his face. Then, he weaved under the second and tried to close the gap between them, but Callie hopped backward, keeping him at arm's length.

This lady meant business.

She shifted her stance, aimed low, and snapped into a roundhouse kick. Cole barely managed to step back—the kick would have shattered his kneecap, had it connected. Without a target to stop her momentum, Callie spun around on her front leg, twisting her hips to maintain balance. She landed on her kicking foot, exposing her backside.

He moved in and wound his right arm up. Cole also threw his shoulder back to better sell the effect of committing to a big haymaker. His father once told him that he could tell a rookie from a pro by how the opponent responded to punches. Rookies, his father said, would try to get out of the way, but pros would move into the path of the punch. By leaning in, pros softened the blow and created an opportunity to counterattack. So, against this ex-NSS agent, Cole opted for a feint. Callie was facing away from him, after all—at this range, her best response to a punch would be to back up into it. He was counting on her to fall for his fake and come closer to him.

The gamble paid off. Callie leaned right in, and Cole grabbed her instead of finishing the swing. He wrapped his arm around her neck and squeezed. She yelped in surprise, and he made the mistake of believing that he had won.

Callie immediately dropped all of her weight to the ground. She dragged Cole down with her, escaped his stranglehold, and landed in a crouching position. He fell forward, his face meeting pavement as Callie slipped out from underneath him. She drove his face even harder into the ground as she pushed herself up.

That hurt.

Cole scrambled to his feet, disoriented. By the time his vision cleared, he saw that Callie had only managed to get a few feet behind him. She stumbled, reached behind her neck, and pulled out a Low Tide dart stuck above her left shoulder blade.

On the other end of the alley, Marie had gotten out of the truck. She held up her convertible rifle, sights trained on the rogue agent.

“No,” Callie protested, falling to one knee. “There's no time! They're already here...” She gritted her teeth and angrily chucked the dart away, visibly struggling against the serum's effects. “...Octavio is in the city...”

Marie sprinted over to her former comrade and slung her rifle. As Callie fell to all fours, Marie flipped her over and lifted her up in a bridal carry.

“Thanks, Agent 4,” Marie said, shifting her attention to Cole. “You okay?” she asked. Callie swiped at her cousin's face ineffectually, all strength having left her body.

“Yeah,” he answered, gently checking his own face. Bloody scrapes marked his forehead and nose. His right cheek also hurt, but there was no permanent damage anywhere.

The agents loaded the soporose Callie into Sheldon's truck as quickly as they could. Even if it was early in the morning, they were still standing in broad daylight without disguises. They jumped in with her, and Sheldon took off.

“Agent 1 reported a terrorist attack to the police station,” mentioned Cole, sitting in the darkness of the cargo area and massaging his bruised cheek. “I dunno if she was lying, but we might need to stay inside the city, just in case. Octavio might really be here.”

Across from Cole, Marie scratched her chin. “The shack is too far away, then, but we can take her to the apartment we used to share in Flounder Heights,” she mused. “My keys should still work.”

Between them, Callie grunted, still fighting to remain conscious.

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**


	25. Chapter 25

“The most fashionable gear is crafted with the latest in textile technology. Heating materials to produce smooth curves or distressing stiff fabrics to increase suppleness and change their look are common techniques.”  
—Sunken Scrolls 2:13 (3.4)

 

**Thursday, 9:30 a.m.  
** **Teuthida General Hospital**

 

Natalie pecked at the bagel in front of her. Breakfast in bed was fun for about all of ten seconds until she realized that raising either hand to her mouth hurt. A lot. Suddenly, eating a bagel became incredibly challenging. Stitches sucked. Gah, this was so frustrating! Why couldn't she do anything right?

Man, staying in a hospital was so boring. At least she only had to stay for a few days this time, and not two whole weeks—no broken ribs or deflated lungs this time, no sirree! It would still be pure torture, though. There was never anything good on TV, and there was nobody to talk to. Natalie had lost her phone, too, so she couldn't even bother Cole. Dang it all.

Natalie forgot how much she enjoyed talking to him face-to-face. She fondly recalled yesterday's reunion and resolved to sign up for League tryouts next season. She had so immersed herself with work that she had abandoned her lifelong dream of playing Turf War. And for what? So she could kill unarmed civilians? So she could lie to everyone? No more of that, Natalie decided. She was going to live life for herself and rekindle that dream of hers.

For now, she had to wait until evening. Then she could see Cole again. They had a lot to catch up on, and Natalie was really looking forward to another chat with him. She was also really looking forward to that Super Seanwich.

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**

 

**Thursday, 10:57 a.m.  
** **Marie's apartment**

 

Callie awoke with a start. The first thing on her mind was Octavio's stupid, stupid operation. So many people were in danger. She had to stop him. What time was it? Was she too late?

Why was she at home?

She tried to push herself up, but she found that her wrists were tied behind her back. She rolled off the couch and landed in a kneel. Then she rose to her feet. Her eyes scanned the room—coffee table, bookshelves, floor—for something to cut her binds with.

“You're awake,” came a voice from behind. Callie immediately recognized it as Marie's.

“We don't have time for this,” Callie shot back, not even bothering to look her cousin in the eye. She continued searching for something, anything sharp enough to cut through a plastic cable tie. “Is it noon yet?” she asked.

Marie said nothing, but Callie heard her cock a gun.

“Seriously?” Callie fumed, straightening herself and slowly turning around. Behind the couch and around the dinner table sat Marie, Sheldon, and the young man from the police station. Sheldon paid no heed to the proceedings and read something on his phone. The big guy sat with his arms crossed, a pistol on the table and his eyes on Callie. Marie pointed a gun of her own at Callie's legs.

Callie looked behind them and caught a glimpse of the stovetop clock display. It read 11 a.m. She breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn't too late, but she only had an hour left.

“Why are you here?” Marie asked in an even tone, devoid of emotion. Her voice sounded fake. That was the sort of voice Marie usually saved for interrogations or when somebody needed to die. The realization sent chills down Callie's spine—they were enemies now, after all.

“Inkopolis Plaza at noon, Octavio is taking hostages to publicly exchange for Agent 3's life. I'm here to warn you. There are also two Octolings cells taking Zapfish from Moray Towers and Musselforge Fitness during the chaos, but we don't really have the manpower to stop them.”

Marie narrowed her eyes. The young man at the table scratched his scabbing forehead.

“Call Cap'n and have him run a scan of the city if you don't believe me,” Callie continued. “Octavio is here, and he's going to start executing people real soon, so we need to get moving _now_.”

“Why should we trust your trap?” challenged Marie.

“ _How_ could this possibly be a trap?” Callie shouted. “You knocked me out for an entire morning! Listen to yourself! Innocent lives are at stake! Tie my legs up and leave me here to rot for all I care, _you_ needed to be in the Plaza _ten minutes ago_!”

The large, quiet kid at the table shot Marie a look, and Marie's free hand went to her ear. “Come in, Captain. Activate an Echolocator on the Plaza and scan for hostiles,” she spoke. She then turned her attention to Callie. “We're going now. But I know better than to leave you alone, so you're coming with us.”

The big guy scoffed, picking up his pistol. Sheldon put his phone away and stood up.

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**

 

**Thursday, 11:15 a.m.  
** **Flounder Heights**

 

At the bottom of the apartment building, Sheldon opened the back of his truck and handed the agents their equipment with a smile. He was always excited to gear them up for work. As they slipped on their face masks and put bulletproof jackets over their street clothes, he also produced two black suitcases. It was now time for Sheldon to unveil their weapons, the tools of the trade, the main attractions. This was the best part of his job.

“So I figured we would run into some action today,” he started. “I packed _just_ the thing—”

“Not in the mood, Sheldon,” Marie cut in. “Give us something that works.”

He smiled, waiting for the senior agent to finish speaking. “...I knew you would say that, Agent 2. You don't trust prototypes. You don't trust frills. You don't even trust scopes.” He popped the first suitcase open on the ground using his foot. “So this should be perfect.”

Inside the suitcase was a silencer, two spare 30-round magazines, and an older model rifle. The black and yellow, long-barreled firearm came equipped with a sling, a rounded stock, and iron sights—just the way Marie liked it. Sheldon knew that the older gun had been Marie's favorite for years; she had never been one for experimenting, especially not with her rifles. So, he packed trusty Old Reliable for her. With civilian lives on the line, there was no room for error.

Marie gave the weapons designer a silent nod of approval, keeping her pistol trained on Callie.

“And for you, Agent 4,” Sheldon announced, popping the second suitcase open in his arms. “The final iteration of my bullpup PDW. No frills, here, either.”

Sheldon smiled as the junior agent lifted the submachine gun out of its case. There were a few frills on this finished version, actually. He put an integrated laser sight under the existing reflex sight, and he increased the fully automatic mode's rate of fire—nothing that Cole needed to be explained to him, Sheldon figured. He also ditched the previous color scheme for a more familiar black and yellow coat of paint. Black and yellow better fit Sheldon's style, anyway.

Cole weighed the gun, first in his right hand, then in his left, before putting the shoulder strap on. “It's beautiful,” he said.

Sheldon chuckled. “You bet.”

Owning a weapon store rocked, but supporting the NSS from behind the scenes was even cooler. Sheldon had lost a few good days of business this week helping the agents, but whatever. He didn't mind driving them places or taking care of their equipment. It was fun, fulfilling work. Even if he was too afraid to directly contribute on the frontlines—that kind of work had claimed both his Pappy and Grandpappy—Sheldon knew that his comrades valued him. Silently, he prayed for their safety. Good luck, agents.

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**

 

**Thursday, 11:45 a.m.  
** **On a rooftop**

 

Marie sat behind a turbine vent, hand to her ear. As the captain relayed information to her via radio, she formulated a plan of attack.

“...Six-hundred feet north, and a second sniper two-hundred feet northeast of your position on top of the old Battle Dojo. They're watching the Plaza entrances. Got it?”

“Yes, Captain. Agent 4, I'll get the two on the roofs, but you need to move in as soon as I do. There's five surrounding the hostages and I can't get a visual from here. Let me know when you're in position.”

Marie took a deep breath, then screwed the silencer onto the barrel of the unscoped rifle, her favorite model. Taking to the rooftops was her thing. Marie had always felt like a hero with her rifle in hand. She had the best aim in the business and the fastest reflexes around. But a single sniper could never handle everything by herself. She needed somebody to take point for her, to risk their life doing the heavy lifting. In situations like this one, the real heroes were the people on the ground.

“Will do,” came Cole's voice.

She poked her head around the turbine vent and scanned the horizon for enemies. “Be careful with the hostages,” she spoke. “Don't let them get hurt. And don't hit them.” Sure enough, she saw two Octosnipers exactly where the captain said they'd be. They wouldn't be able to see her from this angle.

“I won't.”

“And Cole?” said Marie, faltering. “Don't die on me.”

“I won't.”

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**

 

**Thursday, 11:52 a.m.  
** **NSS Headquarters**

 

Captain Cuttlefish leaned back in his chair and doubled-checked the Echolocator readings. Yes, he had gotten their locations right. No, he had not missed anything. He popped a delicious crabby cake into his mouth.

For Senior Officer Craig A. Cuttlefish, today was just another day at work. A long time ago—one-hundred and three years to this very day, in fact—he swore an oath to serve and protect, and he had no plans to break that oath. Not yet. He would defend Inkopolis for as long as he drew breath, just as his old comrades had. The members of the original Squidbeak Splatoon—may they rest in peace—went down fighting. They had denied their captain his chance to die in glorious battle. They gave up their own lives to save his. So, in honor of his brothers and sisters in arms, Captain Cuttlefish would sit on his rumpus and keep watch over the city until the day he saw them all again. He owed them that much, at least.

He popped another crabby cake into his mouth and checked on the agents. Those darned kids were pretty good, he had to admit. But they had better not let Octavio get away this time.

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**

 

**Thursday, 11:54 a.m.  
** **Inkopolis Plaza**

 

“...Who are you looking for, again?”

“Agent 3!” Octavio screamed into the phone. “The slimy little _hipster_ who defeated me two years ago!”

“Okay, and you are… your name is _Octavio_?” the other end of the line asked, doubtfully.

He seethed with anger. Apparently, even the news stations here were run by ignoramuses. “Tell the entire city that she has one hour to get here,” Octavio said, for the last time. “I will take Agent 3 in exchange for the two dozen hostages in the Plaza. If I don't see Agent 3 in _one hour_ , then her cowardice will cost them. Do your job and spread the word.” Then he hung up.

It took Octavio all of his restraint not to throw the phone onto the pavement. In front of him, three members of his honor guard held a crowd of huddled-up Inklings at gunpoint. Two Octosnipers had positioned themselves on nearby rooftops, ready to stop anybody who wasn't Agent 3 from entering the Plaza.

The last member of the honor guard, an armored, black-haired Octoling with seaweed braided into her hair, approached him. “Sir,” she greeted with a salute. “I have concerns about Callie's sudden disappearance. This could—”

But Octavio was barely listening. How did _nobody_ know who Agent 3 was? How did nobody know who _he_ was? Had those dastardly Inklings _written him out_ of their history? He vaguely remembered Callie saying something about this, about nobody knowing who he was. He hadn't realized that Callie was serious.

Speaking of whom, where in the blazes _was_ that woman? She had disappeared early in the morning to “set something up” or “find Agent 3,” Octavio couldn't remember which. Perhaps it had been both. But she hadn't answered her phone for several hours, and the show was about to start. He couldn't have her missing today's main event, now.

“—something's up. If she—”

“ _Child_.” Octavio snapped.

“...Y-yes, sir?”

“Stop talking. Put in Callie's phone number for me and call her again.”

“Yes, sir.”

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**


	26. Chapter 26

“It's Black Friday every day at the Booyah Base Ultra-Mega-Hyper Sale! Every deal's a doorbuster! If you want to be the FRESHEST squid in Inkopolis, you CANNOT miss this incredible shopportunity!”  
—Sunken Scrolls 1:18 (4.3)

 

**Thursday, 11:59 a.m.  
** **Inkopolis**

 

Cole leaned against Sheldon's truck. So much for today's plans. So much for taking a day to catch up and breathe. No rest for the wicked, apparently.

Just one more day, he thought to himself as he scanned the area. The truck was parked on the curb. Sheldon sat inside the cab, keeping watch over Callie in the passenger seat. She put her head back against the headrest, an annoyed expression on her face. The sun sat high in the sky, beating down on Cole's heavy long sleeve jacket and sweaty baseball cap. This particular street, only a couple blocks west of Inkopolis Plaza, was completely deserted, with everyone taking shelter indoors. Word had gotten out about the situation in the Plaza.

This was it. This was the last thing Cole had to do before he could leave all this NSS business behind him. Just five more hostiles. Don't hit the hostage Inklings. Don't get shot. Then he could go get Nat her Super Seanwich. Then he could go home and see his mother and father, see his little brothers Nico and Noddy. He could go back to his normal life, his real life.

He was no crazed killer, Cole reminded himself.

Callie's phone started ringing. She tilted her head up from the seat and looked down at her coat pocket. Both Cole and Sheldon snapped their attention to her.

“It's Octavio,” Callie said matter-of-factly.

Cole suddenly had an idea. He reached into the passenger-side window, into Callie's coat pocket, and pulled her phone out.

“Rude,” she deadpanned.

He pursed his lips, trying to find the right words. “Agent 1, ma'am, how serious was you about saving innocent lives?” he tried.

She craned her neck to look Cole in the eyes. Callie had the same empty glare that Marie did, and he couldn't get a read on her at all. He really needed to learn how to do that someday.

“You really wanna protect people? Make a difference in the world? Then help me,” Cole implored. “Bait Octavio like you mean it. Give me an opening.” He opened the cab door, cut the cable ties around Callie's wrists, and handed her the phone.

Sheldon widened his eyes in horror. “Agent 4, what are you doing?”

“Stop her if she tries to warn him,” he told the driver. “I'm going in.”

“What could I possibly do?” Sheldon protested.

Callie massaged her wrists, took a deep breath, and stared at the ringing phone in her hand for a good moment before pressing the answer button. “Hello, Octavio,” she spoke. “Sorry for the silence. I have Agent 3, and we're coming in from the east side, ETA five minutes. Hold tight and tell your snipers to stand down.”

Cole began running. This was his opening: Booyah Base, two blocks to the east, five minutes until arrival. There were so many stores and services around him, and all within walking distance of each other too. Inkopolis was a completely different world from his quiet hometown of Razorback Falls, where going anywhere practically required a vehicle. But the city was unusually quiet today, or at least on this particular street where nobody was outside. Cole did his best to stay focused on the job at hand. It really wouldn't help to be distracted right now.

One block to the east. He stopped at the corner—the Plaza was right around the bend. It was now noon. The sun was as high as it would get today, and the skies were blue and cloudless. He checked the street signs one last time to make sure that he wasn't going the wrong way. Cole trusted his sense of direction well enough, but he still didn't want to risk messing everything up.

“Marie, I'm in position,” Cole drawled. “You ready?”

“Ready,” came her voice.

“Now.”

He rounded the corner, gun drawn, and moved in. Cole was on the hunt. He barely even heard Marie's “two down” as the Plaza proper entered his vision. Various figures came into view, and he instinctively filtered them into one of two groups: armed or unarmed. To his left was a crowd of people in civilian clothing, the hostages. To their right were four armed Octolings, the honor guard, standing in a line like empty bottles at a shooting gallery. Nobody heard him as he stalked into the Plaza's west entrance. Callie's bait had worked—everybody in the Plaza was facing away from him, their attention focused on the east entrance. Everybody, that was, except for the rightmost Octoling.

That single, vigilant guard shouted a warning as Cole pulled the trigger, holding it down with his index finger for just long enough to unleash a quick burst. Three well-aimed shots landed on her chest, knocking her on her back. Easy pickings, he thought.

The other three turned to face him, but only two started firing. Cole had already snapped his aim to his second target and made quick work of her with a single headshot. He started running to the right to make himself harder to hit. No going back for cover today. Cole was going to finish the job while he had the initiative. He was here for a clean sweep.

As he lined up the next shot, he stumbled. One of the Octolings hit him. A bullet had found its way through his submachine gun's back handle, through the crook of his elbow, and to the center of his body. It struck him at an angle. It was not a big enough caliber to put him down, and it was not a fast enough shot to stop Cole from taking out his third target, who crumpled to the ground.

It was just enough force to break his ribs, however. Cole snarled in pain as he heard two cracks inside of him, one right after the other. The bulletproof jacket had dissipated the force of impact across the front of his torso, preventing the bullet from entering his body. The jacket had saved his life.

But Cole did not have the time to be thankful. Mid-step, he re-centered his reflex sight on the fourth and final Octoling, bullets whizzing past his left side and hitting the ground where he had been merely a second ago, and squeezed his index finger. Three rounds, three hits, and she was down, too.

The Inkopolis citizens in the back of the Plaza were screaming in terror by now, and Cole scanned the area twice more. Every breath he took burned, and his lungs felt like fire, but he did not stop running. Marie had said five hostiles. Cole wasn't about to make the same mistake as last time and let one get away. He needed to locate Octavio, the final hostile, and finish the job.

The screaming subsided. At the edge of the crowd, close to the Octolings, Cole noticed an old man facing the wall. The elderly fellow slowly turned his electric wheelchair around using an armrest control panel, and with his other hand, he held a phone to his ear. Cole stopped running. He suddenly realized that this little guy was not one of the Inklings.

“Who the hell are _you_?” the tiny Octoling exclaimed in a hoarse, gravely voice. He seemed to notice Cole's gun as he screamed “Shoot the intruder! Kill him! _Get up_ , you worthless minions!”

It hurt so much to breathe. Cole's breath quickened, his chest tightened up, and pain flashed across his face as he approached the swathe of people. Try as he might to catch his breath, he could not.

“Get over here!” Octavio shouted at him. “I'ma show you what's what! I'ma _remix your face_!”

“That's… that's Octavio?” Cole heaved into the transmitter. “I… I thought… he'd be... bigger.”

“I mean, he's approaching 140 years old,” came Marie's voice.

Cole tried breathing through his nose instead, which didn't help. Everything still hurt, and the edges of his vision began to blur. “I'm not gonna... shoot an unarmed… old... you do it.”

Octavio stood up from his wheelchair to his full height. He didn't even reach Cole's shoulders. Two of the former hostages ran over and held him down in the seat.

“Get ready for a _beatdown_ , you _impudent little squirt_!” Octavio barked as he struggled against them, unable to get up.

“You're all safe, now,” Cole said, addressing the crowd between shallow breaths. “Free to go.”

Clutching his chest, Cole dropped his weapon and squatted down, That proved to be something of a mistake, because as soon as he did, a sharp, piercing sensation overtook the left side of his body. Unable to bear the pain, Cole fainted, and the last thing his brain processed was a radio transmission from Marie.

“We're done here,” she said.

It was finished.

Cross-fade to black.

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**


	27. Epilogue

“From the depths of the sea we emerged long ago, seeking the light of the surface. In search of still greater lights, we now send this message into outer space, sealed in a disk. Perhaps one day, we will encounter other intelligent life...”  
—Sunken Scrolls 1:22 (5.1)

 

**Three weeks later  
** **Razorback Falls**

 

“Come on, we're gonna miss it!” Natalie bubbled as she twirled around, practically dancing her way into the train station.

Cole wheeled her suitcase behind him, walking at a steady, even pace. “Relax,” he drawled. “We're still early.”

He lifted her suitcase up by the handle, carrying it up the steps to the entrance as Natalie waited for him at the top. They entered the station together, and Cole breathed in the cold, air-conditioned scent of public transit. It came as a welcome relief from the humidity outside; Razorback Falls got uncomfortably hot in the afternoons.

“Can't wait to go back,” Natalie said.

“You was only here eight days.”

“Yeah, but I ain't a homebody like you,” she teased. “I've got big dreams, big plans.”

“So did Octavio, and he's in prison.”

Natalie lightly punched him in the shoulder. Cole set her suitcase down in an upright position and sat on a bench. She sat down next to him.

“You really quit?” asked Cole.

“I dunno.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Well, the NSS is done for,” Natalie answered. “The city's new official Department of Protection and Counterterrorism is gonna replace it, and they look to be the real deal. They just announced Captain Cuttlefish's head adviser position.”

“I'm sure the DPC would hire Agent 3 in a heartbeat.”

“No! I'd rather die than let the _government_ tell me what to do!”

Cole laughed. She hadn't changed her mind at all. Perfectly in character for her, he thought to himself.

“But I guess I never really left,” Natalie continued. “Once Cap'n lets you in, you're a part of the family for good. It's not like I had to formally tender my resignation or anything like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. If Old Cuttlefish needs me again, then I'll know.”

“I suppose he's already got his hands full tracking down those missing baby Zapfish.”

“At least the Great Zapfish found its way back,” Natalie remarked. “I'm more worried about Callie.”

Cole nodded in agreement. Apparently, Callie had taken off after the confrontation at the Plaza. There one moment and gone the next, Sheldon had told him at the hospital. Hard to keep track of her, or something like that. Even with Marie on the case that following week, nobody could find her. She had seemingly disappeared yet again.

“Hey, you're basically a national hero, now, Cole,” Natalie prodded. “I bet the DPC would hire Agent 4 in a heartbeat, too. We could live together at my place!”

“I'm no hero. At least, I don't wanna be. I ain't about putting my life on the line like that ever again—we got oysters to raise.”

“How are you not bored of doing that every day?”

“Just as the world needs you kicking butt at Turf War, my family needs me helping out at home.”

“Don't you wanna see Marie?”

“...No.”

“But she likes you.”

“Nat, she's, like, ten years older than me.”

“No she ain't! _Ten years_? Don't ever say _that_ to her face or you're gonna get hurt!”

Cole laughed again. During his two-week stay at the hospital, Marie had visited him almost as often as Nat had. Marie had also been incredibly concerned about his punctured lung, even after the doctors affirmed that it was no big deal. Between searching for Callie and visiting him in the hospital, Marie had been doing little else, Cole realized.

The station's PA system announced boarding for the train to Inkopolis Plaza, and Natalie rose to her feet. She grabbed her suitcase and looked up at Cole.

“Guess this is it,” she remarked, with a hint of sadness in her voice. “Off to the city, gonna make it big. For real this time.”

“I'll come visit you,” he assured her.

“But you hate the city.”

“So come visit home, too. Come visit me.”

Natalie leaned in for a hug, plopping her head onto his chest. “I'm gonna miss you,” she said.

Cole wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on top of her hair. “Miss you already, Nat.”

“If you go missin' next time, I'll come find you.”

“Please.”

And with that, Natalie let go of him and boarded the train. She looked back one last time and gave Cole a small wave.

“Bye,” he mouthed back with a wave of his own. He went for the station exit, mentally listing off his chores for the rest of the day when his phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket and read the screen.

 

 _New messages!  
_ _Marie:_ When's the next train to inkopolis?  
 _Marie:_ I've got something you need to see

 _1:28 p.m.  
_ _Cole:_ just tell me what it is  
 _Marie:_ No can do  
 _Marie:_ Get over here

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**


	28. Extras

Hey there!

This "chapter" isn't story. Instead, I've compiled some of my notes accrued during the writing process and cleaned them up a bit. I figured that some of you might be curious about the behind-the-scenes junk. If you're not, that's cool, too.

The stuff below is mostly going to follow a pattern. Each section starts with an after-the-fact explanation, followed by a header and the notes themselves. Most of these were whipped up before I started writing, and I referred back to them to make sure I was being consistent. The formatting got a little weird, here, but I tried to make it readable.

 

* * *

 

(I made this first section first before even starting on Chapter 1. During a spell of boredom, I came up with a bunch of ocean-related puns and tried to turn them into character names. When I realized I had enough for a whole cast, I got to work stuffing those names into a story. I didn't end up using all of them in TRH, though. "Meri Tursas" ended up becoming another character's pseudonym, and "Tim Ingila" shows up in a few other stories as a minor character.)

**Character Notes:**

_Marie (Agent 2, established character in both Splatoon and Splatoon 2. Sarcastic and grumpy, but also level-headed and caring. Uses pseudonym "Tursas" in Octo Valley; Meritursas means "octopus" in Finnish)_  
\- Heads to Inkopolis to find Callie, who is missing  
\- As she conducts her search for her cousin, disaster strikes:  
\- The Great Zapfish goes missing, again  
\- DJ Octavio escapes from the Captain's house  
\- Captain and Agent 3 are reported missing at sea  
\- Suspects Octarian involvement after receiving messages from a contact within Octo Canyon, and goes into hiding to protect herself  
\- Runs into Cole asking for a "Natalie" at several jails and hospitals, ultimately recruiting him to help with her search

 _Cole Leoidea (Agent 4, "Coleoidea" is a subclass of soft-bodied cephalopods such as squid and octopus. Antisocial gun hobbyist. Gentle giant. Prefers actions to words.)_  
\- Heads to Inkopolis to find Natalie after she stops answering his calls and messages. He begins searching for her at city hospitals and jails  
\- Runs into Agent 2 (Marie) several times, as she is also looking for someone missing (Callie)  
\- Learns that Callie, Marie, and Natalie used to work together as investigators  
\- Becomes the unofficial fourth agent  
\- Infiltrates Octo Canyon with Marie to unravel the mysteries

 _Natalie "Nat" Tilus (Agent 3, pun on "nautilus." Confident, independent, and a good communicator)_  
\- Childhood friends with Cole  
\- Moved to Inkopolis to become a Turf War player but got discouraged with losing  
\- Befriended an old war veteran and worked for him as an investigator to monitor and sabotage Octarian terrorist efforts  
\- Lost at sea, along with the Captain, after a research trip

 _Tim Ingila (Named after a sea monster "Timingila" that swallows whales. Eats a lot, quite chubby. Isn't often seen or heard, but gets stuff done)_  
\- Tech guy, handles the gear and gadgets  
\- Smart guy, plans ops

 _Cece Elias ("Caecelias" are a mythological octopus-human hybrid. Cece is an outgoing, talkative Octoling. Works for Captain Cuttlefish as a contact and spy.)_  
\- Monitors Octo Canyon for the Captain, and reports military activity to him  
\- When she receives no response on a report, she contacts Marie as well  
\- Feels no allegiance to her species / country but believes that Inkopolis deserves to be taken down a notch

 _Callie (Agent 1, established character in both Splatoon and Splatoon 2. Outgoing, friendly, and excitable. Part of pop idol duo "Squid Sisters," with Marie. Musician and actor.)_  
\- Worked with Marie and Natalie in the past to recover the Great Zapfish and arrest those responsible  
\- Seemingly goes missing around the same time as the Great Zapfish's second disappearance, DJ Octavio's escape, and the research accident at sea

 _Captain Cuttlefish (Captain of the New Squidbeak Splatoon, established character. Observant, perceptive, and vigilant. Optimistic but experienced in combat and leadership. Grandfather to Callie and Marie. Used to be friends with DJ Octavio)_  
\- Watches over Octarian Country for activity  
\- Recruited Natalie as Agent 3 after the Great Zapfish's first disappearance  
\- Imprisoned DJ Octavio after the events of  _Splatoon 1  
_ \- Lost at sea during a research trip with Natalie

 _DJ Octavio (leader of some sort of Octarian military forces. Responsible for orchestrating the Great Zapfish's theft in Splatoon 1. Inventor and mechanic. Hates Inkling-kind and fights for the glory of the Octarians. Once friends with Captain Cuttlefish)_  
\- Captured and locked in Captain Cuttlefish's house after  _Splatoon 1_  
\- Escapes at the beginning of this story  
\- Dishonored after the events of S1, eager to prove himself  
\- Prideful, cares about how the Octarians view him  
\- Thinks he's some big damn hero

 

* * *

 

(This next section came straight out of the game. I typed up the Sunken Scrolls to make them readable, but I ended up breaking the paragraphs up again anyway to insert at the beginning of each chapter. These mostly serve to remind fans of the world's history and catch up people who don't already know Splatoon.)

**History, as told by the Sunken Scrolls:**

_"With creatures of the surface driven to extinction by rising sea levels, the ancestors of Inklings were free to haul their 10-legged bodies up onto the abandoned land. This is how the Mollusc Era began. Before the Great Turf War, there were amicable relations between the Inklings and the Octarians. They couldn't have dreamed that rising sea levels would force them to battle fiercely over the remaining territory._

_The first battles of the Great War ended in victory for the Octarian forces. The diligent Octarians easily dominated the Inklings, who were unable to wake up early enough in the morning to defend themselves. Heralded by loud explosions, the Great Octoweapons quickly stormed the Inklings' central stronghold. Victory for the Octarians seemed all but certain, but due to a plug being carelessly pulled from its socket, their hopes were dashed. Lady Luck shone down on the Inklings, and historians today agree that the Inklings' victory over the Octarians was mostly due to their superior number of limbs._

_After the Great Turf War, the Octarians were forced to retreat into Octo Valley, a remote, rocky terrain spotted with Kettles leading to various underground areas. Inklings soon took over most of the remaining land, participating in a sport called Turf War, inspired by the previous war."_

 

* * *

 

(This was originally written up in paragraphs, but I split it up for my own convenience. This is my altered interpretation of Splatoon 1's events, where Natalie comes to Inkopolis and does the Splatoony things. _Additions to the canon_ are indicated by _italicized text_ , while **changes or deletions** are indicated by **boldfaced text**. The formatting is a bit broken, but it's still readable.)

**Pre-ARH timeline**

\- The Squid Sisters come to Inkopolis,  _Nat and Cole attend school together in Razorback Falls, and Cece begins working for the NSS._

\- The Squid Sisters start hosting the news in Inkopolis Plaza.

\- DJ Octavio and the Octarians steal The Great Zapfish and its children from Inkopolis.

\- Cap'n Cuttlefish deduces that the Octarians are behind the theft  _with Cece's help._

_\- Nat graduates from high school four years early and moves out of Razorback Falls._

\- The future Agent 3 _, Nat,_  comes to Inkopolis.

\- The events of Splatoon 1 begin.

_\- Nat fails to get drafted to any Turf War teams and becomes discouraged with professional athletics._

\- Agent 3 meets Cap'n Cuttlefish and begins working for him. She starts taking Zapfish back from Octo Valley and fighting Octarian "terrorists."

\- Agent 3 learns about the Great War between Octarians and Inklings 100 years ago.

\- The Octarians kidnap Cap'n Cuttlefish to stop him from taking more Zapfish back.

\- Agents 1 and 2 (Squid Sisters) help Agent 3 find Cap'n Cuttlefish.

_\- Cece directs them to DJ Octavio's HQ at the heart of Octo Valley._

\- The agents rescue Cap'n Cuttlefish, return the Great Zapfish, and apprehend DJ Octavio.

\- Cap'n Cuttlefish orders everyone to keep the whole ordeal a secret from the public.

\- Agent 3 goes back to playing Turf War.  **No, she doesn't.**  Callie and Marie resume their music careers.

\- The events of Splatoon 1 end.

_\- Nat continues to work for Cap'n Cuttlefish in the NSS._

\- Two years pass. The Squid Sisters drift apart and stop hosting the Inkopolis Plaza news.

\- Off the Hook (Pearl and Marina) start hosting the news from Inkopolis Square.

\- DJ Octavio escapes.

\- Callie disappears, kidnapped and brainwashed by DJ Octavio.  **Callie breaks DJ Octavio out of prison and defects.**

\- The Zapfish go missing once more, stolen by the Octarians yet again.

\- Cap'n Cuttlefish and Agent 3 take a research trip to somewhere for some reason.  _They go to Octo Canyon to investigate the Zapfish theft and recent Salmonid incursions._

_\- The Octarians capture Agent 3 and Cap'n Cuttlefish. Nat stops answering messages, so her family sends Cole to the city to look for her._

\- The future Agent 4 _, Cole,_  comes to Inkopolis.

\- The events of Splatoon 2 begin.  **The events of A Reluctant Hero begin.**

 

* * *

 

(As part of the process of adapting Splatoon 2's story and world, I described many of the in-game weapons as real-world guns. I picked each weapon's real-world counterpart first by function, then by form. For example, the Splatoon 2 Hero Charger is obviously some kind of rifle, and for this story, it also needs to take different kinds of ammo because Marie uses it to shoot tranquilizers. The M24 SWS ended up being the perfect Hero Charger, because not only does it do (almost) all of the above, it also has the same look—black body and long separation between muzzle and trigger. For other weapons, like Agent 4's Hero Shot, the real-world version of the gun (the FN P90) is cut and dry and I don't have to worry about it.

I never name-drop the guns; the in-game names are all rather ridiculous—like, "Hero Splatling" is hard to take seriously—and the real-world names tend to include companies or military organizations that simply don't exist in Splatoon. The weapons aren't all realistic, either. The brella's real-world counterpart would be totally impractical, and the splatling was tough to connect to anything (gatling barrels are more a century outdated, and holding one with an overhand grip like in the game is suicide). And the special weapons, Stingray and Echolocator, are straight out of science fiction. I guess I did name-drop those, though.

I'm a low-key weapons nerd, so I kept a list of what guns I wanted to geek out over during the course of the story. I also listed what features to focus on in order to make both a gun's model and in-game parallel weapon obvious to readers. Those notes are all below. I didn't want to attach images, but you can google each gun's name to see them all for yourself.)

**GANZ**

Chapter 5

 _Agent 3's Hero Shot :: MAC-10 machine pistol (with attachments)_  
\- Hero shot is the only gun in Splatoon 1's singleplayer  
\- Explanation: Natalie only likes to use pistols  
\- Ugly, compact, box shape behind the rounded barrel part, contour looks like a MAC-10 machine pistol with a big silencer, scope sight, and attached magazine

Chapters 6-8

 _Agent 4's Hero Shot :: FN P90 personal defense weapon (with parts missing)_  
\- Pretty obvious  
\- Lv. 1 version has no back handle, no reflex sight, lower rate of fire

 _Hero Charger :: Remington Model 700 bolt-action rifle / M24 SWS_  
\- Black sniper rifle based on existing civilian model  
\- Cole might recognize this as a modified rifle  
\- "Convertible" between rifle rounds and tranq darts  
\- Scope? No scope on the in-game model but real M24s have one

Chapters 10-12

 _Hero Shot Lv. 2 :: (full) P90_  
\- Lv. 2 in the game looks like the CSGO Asimov skin? Devs must play cs  
\- White and orange color scheme  
\- Full contour: back handle added, reflect sight added, faster fire rate  
\- Mention how great ambidextrous controls are, as Cole is left-handed

 _Hero Charger Lv. 2 :: M24_  
\- No visual changes, maybe mention the red LEDs from in-game

Chapter 16

 _Hero Brella :: Benelli M4 semi-automatic 12-gauge shotgun / M1014 (with folding ballistic shield)_  
\- Semi-auto shotgun obviously but with an umbrella-shaped shield

Chapters 19-20

_Splatterscope :: unspecified "sniper rifle"_

_Hero Splatling :: IWI Negev light machine gun_  
\- Splatling is big and silver-colored  
\- Any metallic LMG should work  
\- Requires rev-up?  
\- How many barrels? Negev has 1, Splatling has 6

_Hero Dualies :: unspecified double pistols (that Natalie steals)_

_Octo Shot :: "Octarian assault rifle"_

Chapters 25-26

 _Splatoon 1 Hero Charger :: M16 rifle (with suppressor)_  
\- Final boss fight needs Marie's original Hero Charger  
\- Also it needs to be an older gun than the M24  
\- Body and iron sights look like the M16, which works

 _Hero Shot Lv. 3 :: P90_  
\- Agent 4 is forced to use the hero shot again for the final boss in-game  
\- Final upgrade

I like weapons.

 

* * *

 

(This final section was mostly made on paper and later abandoned. It was supposed to serve as a planner, but I didn't follow everything. There should be more to it, but I have since lost a lot of these notes.)

**ARH Segments**

_Act 1: Reveal A3 identity, recruit A4, beat world 1_

  * Thursday, Friday around Inkopolis and Tentakeel Outpost
  * Chapters 1-5
  * Emphasize Cole's handling of unfamiliar locations
  * Establish working relationship with Marie
  * Establish Nat's role as A3
  * Fail to find her
  * Introduce side characters like Tim and Cece



_Act 2: World 2 ops, reveal intel leading to Octoling Strike / Octoling Assault_

  * Saturday out in the wilds
  * Chapters 6-9
  * Continue to search for A3
  * Lead agents back to Inkopolis
  * Guns



_Act 3: Fight some Octolings in Inkopolis_

  * Sunday, Monday back in Inkopolis
  * Chapters 10-14
  * Urban warfare and civilian casualties
  * Cole needs to start questioning the NSS's brutal methods
  * Nat is moved but manages to slip agents some notes



_Act 4: Intel to World 3, go to world 3 and rescue A3 and Cap'n_

  * Tuesday
  * Chapters 15-18
  * Nat breaks out on her own
  * Helps everyone escape Beaker's Depot
  * Everyone compiles their knowledge together
  * Cole is probably exhausted



_Act 5: Tackle World 4 with everyone except Callie, recruit Callie_

  * Wednesday
  * Chapters 19-23
  * Go break stuff
  * Find Callie
  * Cole almost dies from being overworked
  * Free the GZ



_Act 6: Rescue Great Zapfish and stop DJ Octavio_

  * Thursday
  * Chapters 24-27
  * Teamwork makes the dream work
  * Guns too
  * How do I make the final boss not stupid?



 

* * *

 

(To keep all my stories consistent, I track my characters' ages across _all_ my Splatoon fanworks. There are potential spoilers for my other stories, but I suppose if you've made it down this far then you might not be worrying too much. If you were ever curious about the chronological order of my little stories, you'll find that here too.

A totally random tidbit: Because Cap'n Cuttlefish is so incredibly fucking old, he's actually Callie and Marie's _adoptive grandfather_ rather than their biological grandfather. He's 101 years their senior, which makes the old captain a contemporary of the Squid Sisters'  _great-grandparents_. My personal headcanon is that Cap'n Cuttlefish was friends with their biological great-grandparents. Let's say that they were navy buddies or something. Two of the three got married, and spoiler alert the odd one out was Captain Cuttlefish. He watched over and trained their only son, the Sisters' actual biological grandfather, and acted like the weird old great-uncle to _that_ man's daughter. When the captain's "niece," who I will call Delilah, grew up and had twins of her own, we finally get to the Squid Sisters' biological parents, with Cap'n Cuttlefish wondering how much longer he'll even live for—he's approaching 80, now. Unfortunately, Delilah, the captain's niece, passes away early on in her life, leaving her twins orphaned. The captain adopts both girls, and they eventually grow up to become Callie and Marie's mothers. Thus, Craig Cuttlefish calls the Squid Sisters his granddaughters despite being a generation and a half too old.

Damn, this should be a fic in and of itself.

I plan to update this as I add more to the physical timeline I've created on paper. I really like the idea of a series of stories that touch on various times in a character's life.)

**OVERALL TIMELINE AND CHARACTER AGES**

GREAT TURF WAR ENDS

  * Cap is 25, Octavio is 37



SPLATOON 1

  * Natalie is 14, Cole is 16
  * Cap is 125, Octavio is 137
  * Callie and Marie are 24



THE RELUCTANT HERO (over Splatoon 2)

  * Natalie is 16, Cole is 18
  * Cap is 127, Octavio is 139
  * Callie and Marie are 25
  * Cece and Eight are 25



K IS FOR KAMABO (over Octo Expansion)

  * Natalie is 17, Cole is 19
  * Cap is 128, Octavio is 140
  * Callie and Marie are 26
  * Cece and Eight are 26
  * Pearl is 21
  * Marina is 18



OLYMPUS

  * Natalie is 28, Cole is 30
  * Cap and Octavio are gone
  * Callie and Marie are 37
  * Cece and Eight are 37
  * Pearl is 32
  * Marina is 29
  * Rin is 31
  * Tim is 41



THRILL OF THE HUNT

  * Nat and Cole are in their 30s
  * Callie, Marie, Cece, and Eight are in their 40s
  * Pearl and Marina are dead
  * Tim is in his late 40s but fucking DIES



I WAS SUPPOSED TO WATCH YOUR SIX

  * Natalie is gone, Cole is at least 40
  * CMCE are all nearing 50




	29. Small Update and Postface

**Tuesday, 4:44 p.m.**  
**Inkopolis outskirts**

 

Hi there! Two things. First, I have gone and touched up every single chapter. I have made hundreds of small revisions, changes, additions, removals to each chapter in order to improve the overall reading experience. There isn't anything new for returning readers, sorry about that. I just hope that the new readers who discover this fic in the future receive the smoothest, cleanest version of it.

Okay, that wasn't really my main motivation. Second, I wanted to take the chance to reflect on this whole experience. In truth, I've been tweaking  _The Reluctant Hero_  offline for weeks. I don't normally consider myself a details person, someone who would get hung up over the small things, but while writing this story, I've had an obsessive need to make everything  _perfect_. I don't feel happy about my writing unless I can say that I'm proud of it. If I want a story to even exist, then I better damn well make it good. Hence, my hundreds, if not thousands, of revisions. I've only just uploaded all of them.

This is, in all honesty, a stupid way to do things. Nothing is ever perfect. This was my first piece of fanfiction. And it's  _fanfiction_ , for fuck's sake—this is supposed to be fun, not perfect. Fanfiction exists because we like stuff and we want to engage with that stuff in a new and meaningful way. Many of you write it, and many more of you read it.

I understand all of that, and yet, I haven't had so much fun in a long time. Doing things in this roundabout, detail-oriented way has been extremely fulfilling. What started as a trashy, violent, and niche reinterpretation of a kids' game slowly became my pet project, a personal goal of sorts. Not only did I need to finish my first story, I felt a need to be  _proud_  of it. I needed to prove to myself that I could make something that I liked.

I'm about to get even more deep and personal with this, so feel free to leave right now if that's not your thing. Honestly, I'm second-guessing myself right now, posting a reflection this candid to the  _Splatoon_  fandom, of all places. A lot of you are probably too young to even understand what I'm fucking talking about, but here we go.

I graduated from college just a few months ago. Like, I finished high school, went to another school after high school, and then finished four years of that. And quite frankly, college destroyed a lot of the confidence that I had built up coming in. Princeton University is a good school, but damn that place really knocks you down a peg. I didn't come out of that place with a job and the feeling that I was all grown-up. I mean, I learned a lot about myself about the people around me, but I came out of college feeling lost and like a piece of garbage. Princeton made me feel like I couldn't do anything right, and that is one of the worst things you can ever feel as an individual.

Obviously, it wasn't the truth. And it's actually a pretty common thing to feel, especially upon leaving a school with as many talented, brilliant students as Princeton. But that was what I genuinely believed a few months ago. That I was lost. That I was a piece of garbage who couldn't do anything right.

Enter fanfiction. I've been reading fanfic for, like, twelve or thirteen years, now, but I had never bothered to try my hand at writing any. I'm not a writer. But fanfic became my ladder back out of the hole I had fallen into. Writing this story, in particular, has given me a chance to get back on my feet in terms of self-confidence. Seeing the hits and reviews was nice, but more importantly, the process of writing was  _creative_. I was  _creating_  something. I could prove to myself that I could make stuff that I actually liked and could be proud of. If my two million references to Splatoon lore don't make it obvious already, I really like Splatoon. I also really like digging into a game's world and sussing out all the tiny details. This was my chance to combine creation, Splatoon, and worldbuilding—three things I like a lot.

It's funny, thinking back to the planning stages, that I had originally intended for Natalie to be the star of this story. She's my self-insert. She's me, and her admittedly limited character is a clear-as-day reflection of myself. The rare glimpses you get of Natalie's personality paint the picture of a perfectionist. Like me, Nat wants to do everything well. She's obsessed with being number one, and that unhealthy drive has made her unable to accept failure. She is in constant need of self-validation, and as a result, Nat is constantly trying to prove to herself that she can do anything, even when she plainly can't. I should take a hint from her and stop pushing myself when I shouldn't go any further, but the pushing has produced great results so far, and I don't want to stop just yet. I'll learn, someday.

Somewhere along the way, Nat's childhood friend Cole became a major character in the story, and by the time I had something I wanted to share, a male lead had stolen the spotlight. On the surface, he and I are worlds apart. Cole's a redneck pig farmer. I'm a computer scientist who was raised in the suburbs. Cole is a quiet gun nut. I am a loudmouthed gamer and pianist. Cole is a lefty. I don't even have a left hand. But Cole and I share a lot of our inner thoughts and musings. He's my voice for the story, with all his second-guessing, self-doubt, and circular thinking. Cole's narration reflects a lot of what I think and how I think. His personality amounts to being a focused skeptic, which, if you strip away my extroversion and love for fellow humans, is much like mine.

Rounding the rest of the cast out are the less complex characters. Cap'n Cuttlefish is an experienced, accomplished military man who hasn't quite adjusted to the modern age. Sheldon likes developing new technology more than anything else. Cece sells out her country. Octavio is just Cuttlefish but narcissistic and on the wrong side of history. I put some thought into developing Callie and Marie, though, since even if I ignored their in-game personalities, I still had to account for their relationship before their split. I settled on Callie being idealistic and Marie being supportive. Callie is a utilitarian, the-ends-justify-the-means sort of person who truly wants to maximize the amount of social good she can do, whereas Marie is a calm, pragmatic, motherly figure who likely had to look after her fellow Squid Sister when they were still together. Both of them are also badass secret agents, of course.

Put all of this crap together, and you've got a story that fits my personal tastes. I enjoyed Splatoon  _in spite_  of its story, but what would the game look like if I enjoyed Splatoon  _because of_  its story? Probably something like this, but less shitty. Whatever, now I have both a game I can sink thousands of more hours into and a story that's mine. I could ask for a lot more in life, but this is a pretty solid start.

If you're still here, thanks for listening and stuff. Have an excellent day. I mean it. And don't ever stop yourself the way I did. Go for gold.

 

**¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤ ~ § ~ ¤**


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